The Consequences of Touching Darkness
by SinsOfDragons
Summary: In 1979 a recently widowed Dorea Black makes a decision that changes the fate for more than just her children. Can her actions redeem a death-eater and her daughter bring another into the light? Or are the consequences too great for touching darkness? Mature themes. A death-eater centric story. Mature themes. I own nothing, I just like to play in JK Rowling's world.
1. Prologue

Prologue.

Dorea Black has lived a very interesting life, she fell for a Gryffindor even when the world told her she was a fool for doing so. But Charlus had been something of a dish and she couldn't resist keeping him to herself after the taste of him she should never have been given. He was everything she had been taught not to want and she found him all the more delicious for it. So she had married him and they had had a very happy life and had a wonderful son. He was the apple of my eye, and eventually he brought us two more stray boys to love, and they two became like sons to us.

But then as all fairy tales really end, tragedy struck. Charlus had been looking into the disappearance of Delilah Horton, a young witch who worked in the department of mysteries and aurors arrived on my doorstep. Charlus was dead, and with him gone my whole life shattered. For forty-three years that man had been the center of my world and in a moment he was taken from me. My brave foolhardy Gryffindor had sacrificed himself to save Delilah Horton and her children from death-eaters. I never felt true hate until that moment, felt the all-consuming rage that my house is renowned for and all I wanted was a justice I knew would never come.

The funeral passed in a daze, day to day life had become an almost unbearable tedium and if it was not for my boys I would not have chosen to live without him. And so I did something I regret unto this very day, I joined the Order of the Phoenix and became Albus Dumbledore's spy amongst my old circles, disguised of course. I found my way into the darkest of death-eater revels and it took all my willpower not to run and the things that I witnessed them do to those poor muggles. Then in my grief, I agreed to something I should never have done.

It was meant to be simple, a date during which I probe his mind for anything that would have helped with the fight against Voldemort. I should have known better, should have known his mind would be a trap, and it would take so much more that I should have given. But the order was desperate and my son and his young bride had enlisted themselves in a battle I wish they had stayed away from. He was young enough to be my son and yet he made me feel alive when I had felt dead inside for so long. I should not have given into his charms, his quick wit and insatiable thirst for knowledge.

He was the kind of man my family wished I would have married, a warning sign for me not to go there and yet, even now I find myself unable to fully regret my actions. As he told me about his fears about his wife, his place in the new world his master wanted to build I saw something in him that I wanted for myself, and I took it. I had refused the glamours and potions to make me into someone else for this night, tonight I was myself, just forty years younger. The body I had had before childbirth and time had ravaged away some of my suppleness and beauty, I was twenty again with all the rushing hormones that came with it.

He smelled like sandalwood and citrus and something undeniably manly that had me aching to sink my teeth into him every time he got closer than was proper. My heart raced with every utterance of the word darling and the way his accent would roll those Rs of his. When his lips found mine, instead of resisting as I knew I should have, I pulled him closer. When his hands wandered under the hem of my skirt, instead of pulling away I guided his fingers where I ached for him to touch. It wasn't long before we found a secluded room and he was inside me. The walls of the rather dreary manner seemed to echo with the cries of our lust and he attempted to pound our way through them.

It was a constant battle for dominance and control until at dawn finally spent he fell to slumber on the rug beneath me, his chest rising and falling in utter peace. I searched his mind for what the order needed and as the cold light of day washed over my skin, I left him with a kiss and left that manor for good. I never saw him again and the information I got from his mind saved many lives. He left me with something I did not expect. Something I knew should he ever find out, he would be ceaseless in his quest to possess and offer up to his deranged dark-lord.

And so after my son's wedding, I did something that I have regretted every day since then, I gave my daughter up and hid her away in the muggle world. The couple I found lived in Oxford and were some kind of teeth healers. They had long struggled to have a child and so I altered their memories so they would believe that she was their own. It broke my heart to leave her, to hide her in such a way, but the order needed something of me that would be too dangerous for her to ever survive the undertaking of.

On September 28th, 1980 in the early hours of the morning, Dorea Potter, mother To James Charlus Potter and adopted sons Sirius Orion Black and Remus Lyall Lupin was reported to all but Albus Dumbledore to have died suddenly from a rather aggressive form of Dragonpox. Her illness was said to have been a fatal exposure during her visit to the St Mungos Hospital for magical Maladies where she had just donated a significant amount to the long term spell damage ward.

Her sons were never informed of the ruse, for Dorea knew they would never have let her go otherwise. Although it hurt her to break their hearts in such a manner she acted in what she felt had their best interests at heart. She made her way to the heart of her childhood home, down to the rooms that no one other than her grandfather had dared enter in the last three centuries and paid the price of blood for her entry. He hand had throbbed with a heavy pulse as her magic was recognized by the room.

The surroundings were humble by pureblood standards, made for practicality and not the opulence the rest of the Black properties. The walls were painted black with silver runes that covered almost every surface. The spells in runic were designed to protect the Black bloodline but they also served a darker purpose. From this room, blood vendettas could be sworn and entire lines eradicated with mere words. It was this kind of magic that her family was famous for, they had even named this magic after themselves, not just dark magic, but black magic.

She moved into the room, and with a whisper lit a candle in all four corners and a firepit in the center of the room. It was here that she would do what needed to be done to save her family should things go very badly wrong. She would entomb herself within these walls, encased in the familial magic that had birthed her and let go of her ties to the mortal world. She would not be woken until Albus called for her or he dies and leaves the order without a leader.

It was not necessary but vanity is a terrible thing, and so Dorea had permanently de-aged herself until she appeared to be around forty years old, older than when she had seduced her death-eater lover but younger that her true age but nearly thirty years. Her dark hair and storm gray eyes shone back at her within the ancient looking glass and Dorea wondered when she would be brought back from this entombment. She added the contents of the vial that Dumbledore had passed her and set to add them to the potion of living death that she had brewed herself. She did not know what Albus had handed her, only that the smell was vile and it contained the spell that would wake her when required.

As the potion simmered she looked upon the few items that she had brought with her. Her son's wedding photo of him and his dear Lily, dancing and laughing made her smile and her heart ache. He was a terrible dancer but the happiness shone from him like a beacon of light one couldn't help but want to bask in. Her Charlus was the same, such a dear man that even after decades together one look from him could make her heart race.

She had some of her favorite pieces of the poetry her little Remus would write for her, something new for every special occasion. Sush heartbreaking prose she knew one lucky woman would have the joy of turning such somber tones into joyful rhymes. Of her naughtiest son Sirius she had his leather jacket, adorned with a paw print on the left lapel that he insisted his ma keep safe for him whilst he saved the world by day in the auror office. She looked them dearly and it made her heart ache to leave them so.

Lastly, she had a small pair of the palest pink booties and a blanket that still held her daughter's unique baby scent. Inhaling she felt tears prick her eyes and she swallowed back the emotion she knew she could not give into. She was a Slytherin and a Black, she had better control than this. She took a steadying breath and reached for the now steaming potion and without hesitation cast a cloaking spell and drank the mixture in one. She was briefly reminded of Bertie Botts vomit flavor bean in the taste before she felt the poison quickly take effect. She slid down the wall behind her and struggled to take one last glimpse at the reminders of her children before darkness took her.

In his office in Hogwarts Albus Dumbledore felt the tie of magic latch around his very magical core to let him know that Dorea had made the sacrifice that she had asked of him. He was more disturbed however by the newest name on the list of magical children that would one day be a student at this school as it flittered between three names. Baby Girl Lestrange daughter to Rodolphus Lestrange one moment, then Cassiopeia Charlotte Black and finally upon Hermione Jean Granger. He did not know what had happened to cause such a strange confusion upon the list but he knew for certain that this child would be one to watch when the time came.


	2. Revealed Secrets

**All rights as always belong to JK Rowling. If you have not already please go and check out the death-eater express on facebook run by the lovely ladies Freya-Ishtar Canimal and Kittenshift17.**

Hermione was having a bad day, one of those epically frustrating ones that come from being one-third of the golden trio and having just survived an attempt on her life, again. She had been in the hospital wing for the last ten days recovering from a curse that she had been struck with by Antonin Dolohov. The Russian wizard had been silenced at the time and Madame Pomfrey had mentioned that had he spoken the curse aloud she would have been burned alive from the inside out.

It was now settling into early June and she was in Professor Dumbledore's office and for the first time, Hermione was struggling to comprehend what the headmaster was telling her. Harry was sat by the window his attention drawn elsewhere as his guilt and grief ate at him, and Hermione was struggling to understand why she was needed to be here for this conversation at all.

"Professor, I have not taken ill again I simply do not understand why I am needed for this conversation. Yes, I understand that the woman next to you is Harry's Grandmother although how that can be I will never know. She looks younger than my mother and from what Sirius told us about the Potter's they were not young when they had his father James. There's also a minor factor that she was meant to have been dead for at least the last seventeen years." She flexed her hands against the wood of her chair and took a calming breath before she continued.

"I know you kept her continued living a secret but I am unsure as to why I need to be informed of how and why. Don't get me wrong and I am grateful that you would think to include me but surely it's Harry that needs your attention and explanations, not me. I am not the one you left an orphan after all." She said so rather abruptly, Hermione had always felt a bond with Harry, as though he were a brother and the idea of him suffering from the Dursleys had always upset her.

Harry sighed interrupting them all and moving through the office to sit next to Hermione. He gave her a weak smile. "Mione they are trying to tell you that Gran hid you in the muggle world and you're her daughter and well, she didn't really say who your father was. I mean I know it wasn't my Grandfather otherwise you'd be more Percy's age… Hermione?"

Hermione felt all the blood drain from her face as she stared at them all in shock hoping that this was all just some very sick joke. But as she looked at each pitying gaze she felt a lump form in her throat as she looked at the woman claiming to be her mother. She was gorgeous, everything the Black family were rumored to be and more. Long dark curls and storm gray eyes set in a heart-shaped face she had an aura around her that sang of power. She intimidated Hermione in a way she didn't think a mother should.

She found herself reaching for Harry's hand and squeezing, needing a tangible anchor in the storm of emotions that were flooding her. "That's not even possible…" she whispered, more to herself than the room at large but Dorea Black walked around the desk to stand before her. She wasn't much taller than Hermione, maybe an inch or so and up closer she could see tiny lines around her eyes that spoke to some of her age.

"I assure you, not only is it entirely possible, letting you go was one of the most soul destroying things I have ever endured. I have lost many children before I was blessed with James and I did not think I would ever be so blessed as to have another. To have been given you only to have to let you go broke my heart. Your father was well, he brought me back from a very dark place but I could not follow him on the path he has chosen to walk. I will say that you look like him my dear and that as far as I have been informed you are his only child even though he is married.

"I chose the most loving guardians I could find for you as I knew I could not leave you with my sons." She laughed at Hermione's questioning gaze "Yes Hermione sons, they might not have been mine by blood but Remus and Sirius were just as much my sons as James. I hope they have treated you almost as well as I would should things have been different. It was not an easy thing to do Hermione, to give up that which I love most. I never knew I had a grandson until a few days ago, so much has passed me by that I despise myself for not being here to stop. I lost James and Lily and I almost lost Sirius as well. He spent twelve years in that hell and Remus starved for all that time. I wonder if the sacrifice of time that I made was even worth what I lost..."

Ten days Earlier- Death room - Department of Mysteries.

Harry watched as his godfather was hit with a curse and the light died instantly in his eyes, the laughter on his lips seemed to freeze in a strange Macabre mask. His body instead of dropping as it should have now seemed to get pulled towards the mysterious shadowy door where he could hear hundreds of voices loudly protest. He could not make out the words but the sound was angry and defiant.

He tried to run towards Sirius, hoping that by pulling him from the door he could keep him with them in the land of the living. Remus Lupin had grabbed him around the middle and even as Harry screamed to be let go of, the arms around him tightened and he could feel some part of him shatter as his Godfather Sirius Black faded from view. His heart felt as though it was pounding so violently that it would burst out of his chest as though to escape the pain of losing yet another parent.

Harry had never lost hope that one day Sirius would be cleared and he would be allowed to live with his godfather and finally be a part of the family he so longed to be with. Yet with each passing moment, that hope was dying and Harry hated himself for coming here, for leading his friends and his godfather to their possible deaths in a trap set by Voldemort. Remus was speaking to him but Harry couldn't hear him over the vile cackling of Bellatrix Lestrange.

She had begun dancing and twirling manically as she watched her cousin pass through the death door, clearly delighted to have rid the Black family of what she considered to be a blood traitor. "Aww itty bitty baby Potter, did I kill your Puppy?" Her laughter rang through the chamber drawing the attention of all around her. "I killed Sirius Black, I killed Sirius Black. I killed the traitorous Mutt.."

Her words died as she and the others in the chamber noticed the smoke coming from the death door and many began to scream. Remus pulled Harry back out of reach as it began to billow out from the door in all directions.

The Black Estate - Shere Surrey.

"I killed Sirius Black, I killed Sirius Black…."

The words singing through the air echoed through the shadowy door and into the entombing chamber of one Dorea Black. The sound was jarring like nails on a chalkboard and scratched through her eardrums to pierce at her very soul. She awoke in something like a trance, the taste of that potion no longer on her tongue, instead replaced by the dryness of too long without water. Her body felt strange from so long without use, and yet strangely invigorated at the same time.

She looked down at her arms and what she saw there made her heart almost stop, it was not Dumbledore or his death that had called for her, it was what she had sacrificed herself to prevent coming to pass. The Black family must always have a living male heir if it does not then all dark or Black Magic will cease to fail. On the surface, it sounds like a good thing, but considering some of the most effective healing spells and those we use to protect ourselves with are based on dark magic it could become catastrophic.

In 1182 one of her ancestors Arctus Leonidas Black decided it would be a good idea to bond his blood and that of his house with dark magic. His thinking being that darkness can exist without the light and so by tying his bloodline to dark magic he would ensure that his family bloodline would never die out. For centuries there were no problems although over time those born into the Black line became more aggressive and powerful and inclined to use the darkest of magics. But the bloodline was almost destroyed by the Plague which ravaged through Europe and all the sons of the line and all the children died.

When the cures that healers had been using to treat the plague began to fail as well, the consequences of their ancestor's actions were brought to light. And so it was decreed that three of the Black women who were older in years and had survived the plague would sacrifice their lives to return those of three possible heirs to the Black line and heal the rift. Only one male was brought back into the world of living at the cost of far more than the family had been willing to give. And so, this chamber that Dorea now stood within had been formed, it was a place where the dead of the Black family were all presented before their final journey to the afterlife. Any lingering magic their bodies held onto would be absorbed by the room to help pay the price should it be required again.

The price had been paid but had left its mark on Dorea, silver and black runes looked as though they had been cut and burned into her flesh as a reminder of what the magic had almost cost them. On the floor before her laid Sirius Black. He had been ravaged by time and she could see the effects of long starvation that had been slowly being healed before he had been struck dead. His breathing was shallow and she dropped to her knees to cradle his head in her lap and kissed his temple. She breathed deeply even as a tear fell from her cheek. She did not know what had happened to her son but someone was going to pay dearly for it.

His silvery gray eyes opened and met hers and simply stared, his hand shaking as it rose to stroke her cheek. "Am I dead now Ma?" he whispered starting to look around as though he expected others to be there with her waiting to greet him. She shook her head and slowly helped him to stand, unable to resist pulling him into a hug and holding him. "You aren't dead my little troublemaker, but I do not have time to explain just yet. Now move, something tells me you left an awful mess in your wake."

With that she ushered him through the shadowy door she could just make out in the gloom, swatting him when he attempted to turn around and ask questions. "Sirius Orion Black do as I tell you or I swear to Morgana I will bend you over my knee and beat you until you behave!" She couldn't help but laugh as he grinned and pushed him back through the door. As she stepped through the veil, feeling as though a thousand gossamer threads had passed over her skin causing her to shiver. There were maybe twenty people in the room and almost all of them looked at her son as though they had seen a ghost. A young man she almost mistook for her James shouted and rushed her son, hugging him fiercely as tears ran down his cheeks.

Remus was looking at her in much the same way and she could almost see the silent argument he was having inside his own head. She had much to explain but right now she had to rid her family of the threat towards the bloodline. Her cousin Bellatrix, daughter of the dimwitted Cygnus had screamed and ran at the sight of Sirius muttering that it can't be true. Many more in the chamber had begun to run from the returned Black heir as Ministry officials and aurors ran inside. "You know who! He's back!" shouted a rather portly man in pajamas clutching a rather abused bowler hat.

"Yes," she heard the ever-calm voice of Albus Dumbledore utter "as I have been telling you all along Cornelius he is not only back but seems to have broken into your ministry, Minister." Dorea blinked, looking the stuttering fool over and wondering who in their right mind would make this creature the Minister for Magic. Her eyes met the twinkling blue of Albus and she watched as recognition dawned upon him and he excused himself.

"It is truly a long time since I have seen you, Dorea. You look resplendent as always." She scoffed and laughed. "Albus you old fool you, flirting was never your strong suit, but I wouldn't be too alarmed, all Gryffindors are terrible at it." She stroked his wizened cheek and wondered just how many years had passed to weigh on him so. He seemed to have been worn thin.

"Enough years have passed Dorea, that your daughter will surely be needing you to teach her the art of flirtation by now. As a Gryffindor, she too must be terrible at it." Dorea stilled and knew that her sons were all listening in, even as they helped the ministry officials move the injured and explain that Sirius was innocent. She wordlessly cast a shield charm when one of them raised their wand against her son and what she presumed must be her grandson. "Daughter?"

"Yes, rather a curious thing happened seventeen years ago, a young girl's name kept changing on the Hogwarts list of magical children, one second it said Cassiopeia Charlotte Black and then switched between two others showing different parentages. Strange then that this child so reminds me of you from just one glance, and is just as outspoken I feared you must have failed and been reincarnated as the young witch. Of course, if it wasn't for her resemblance to a certain wizard I never would have guessed she was yours, Dorea."

His hand rested on her shoulder as he looked the woman over who had done so much during the last war to protect those that she could. "She's being returned to the school as we speak but come with me and I will see about reuniting you with your daughter."

In the shadows, Rodolphus Lestrange listened with great interest as the woman he had bedded behind Bella's back looked hopeful at the prospect of a daughter with hidden parentage. He needed to regain access to some of the records within his vaults, those that recorded all those born to the family, recognized or not, because if he wasn't mistaken, the girl he knew as Cara had secretly given him a daughter...


	3. The Taste of Freedom

**Oh My Goodness, firstly I just have to say thank you! I was not expecting the response that I have received from you all which has been nothing but positive. You have all made my day. The next few chapters will be snapshot scenes of what happened between the events in the department of mysteries and Hermione meeting Dorea in Dumbledore's office. Enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer... I own nothing, but I do adore a death-eater tale.**

The ministry of Magic - Aurors office.

"Alastor Moody I don't care if I did not give birth to him, I have raised him since he was eleven years old so don't you dare say that I am not his mother one more time." Mad-eye Moody eyed Dorea Potter Nee Black as though at any second she would sprout wings and start spewing fire at him and his colleagues. "He is mine and you are not taking him anywhere, the minister of magic has in just five minutes of meeting the man, shown what a spineless yellow-bellied toad that he is. You think I can't lead him around like scalded hound until I get my way Alastor?"

She eyed the aging auror like one would eye a bug that had dared to enter a clean room. "My son stays with me and I have no intention of ever being taken into Auror custody. I know the wizarding laws like the back of my hand. Or have you forgotten my Charlus had to die for you to get your current position?"

"Mada… Lady Potter as the wife of a former auror surely you must know that there are protocols that we have to follow. I understand the circumstances but.." Alastor was fighting to maintain his patience, it seemed his old friend Albus had kept a secret he would have preferred to be in upon as dealing with an irate Dorea was not something he was ever fond of doing.

"But nothing Alastor. You either release my son or I will personally drag every member of the wizengamot from their feather beds until they call for your head for being so incompetent. Now go and get the pardon forms so I can get to Hogwarts and check on the wellbeing of my Grandson or so help me, I will not be held responsible for what I do next." Her eyes blazed with untamed fury and the promise of swift retribution. "Dorea.." Alastor pleaded and she aimed her wand at his chest. "Don't Dorea me Alastor Moody, start a fire under the arses of your lazy underlings and get the paperwork sorted so that I can have my son back. He almost died today and I will be severely annoyed if you keep stalling." When he didn't move fast enough, she plastered a pleasant smile on her face and started walking from the room, smiling at Sirius and winking as she passed him.

"Dorea where are you going?" She heard Alastor call after her. She didn't halt her steps, instead, she carried on walking and called over her shoulder.

"Why to talk to the press, of course, there's a blonde curly haired little chit I can see from here that looks to be positively dying for an exclusive. How about I give her one. Just think of the headlines. 'Ministry incompetence sees the department of mysteries invaded by You know Who.' 'Miscarriage of Justice sees an innocent man convicted of murder'. Or how about my favorite, 'Grieving mother forced to watch as sons face further abuse from thugs at the ministry of magic.' Oh, I do like that one, run alongside images of all those children who were apparated back to Hogwarts on stretchers because the auror office is now incapable of completing the simplest of tasks."

"Dorea stop! I understand that you are upset but certain things need to be confirmed before we can just let him waltz out of here, including where you have been for the last seventeen years." Moody was now red-faced as his anger finally got the better of him.

He spun Dorea to face him and winced when she sent a stinging hex his way for daring to lay a finger on her. "I am not leaving him here with you, and I have a grandson who has recently been traumatized to get back to. Or did you forget the only parent he has ever known died before his eyes today! My son James and his wife Lily are dead because of this institutions corruption and ineptitude so if you think for a second I will leave Sirius with you, you have lost your mind.

"Where I have been and how I have come back is none of yours or the ministry's business. I am not some errant child to be scalded and you will remember who you are talking to!" Her chest was heaving as she screamed in his battle-scarred face and she saw from the corner of her eye many of the DMLE (Department of Magical Law Enforcement) aurors stare in shock as she made the famous auror cower before her. "Now get off your lazy backside and release my son and do not make me repeat myself again."

"Dorea you know I have to wait for the wizengamot before I do anything and I have several wizards that I need to process for transfer to Azkaban." Moody had taken a step back from the raven haired witch clearly remembering for the first time why he and his colleagues had feared the Potter family, it wasn't the Patriarch of the house but the woman before him who was the driving force of their ruthless reputation.

"You are getting on my last nerve Alastor. Get the bouncy pink haired witch who is pulling faces at my son to process even more men to enter Azkaban without a trial whilst you work on releasing my son. Or I will call every wizarding newspaper agency in the world and tell them everything your spineless Minister is rushing around destroying evidence of. Like abuse of minors, illegal methods of detainment perhaps?"

She placed her hands on her hips and looked very much like the viper playing with the mouse before she killed it as she smiled once more. "In fact, if memory serves me, the Abbott family still own shares in the The New York Ghost newspaper and I am sure they will be more than happy to help me get the story of the ministry's ineptitude and gross mis-justices to the masses.

"I could even pay for one to be delivered to every wizarding household in Europe from my private accounts and barely feel the pinch in order to get the word out. The Matriarch Rosemary is a dear friend after all and will be more than happy to help me keep my family safe from ministry thugs. Her son's businesses are all based overseas of course so threats to his business would be ill conceived. She always did have a soft spot for Sirius, he charmed her every year at my New Year's ball after all." When Alastor continued to stare at her with a dumbfounded expression she could have sworn she heard the pink haired witch giggling that she broke 'Mad-eye'.

No witch or wizard moved an inch as they waited to see who would win the argument between the Old auror and the formidable witch. With a curse, Moody began shouting orders for her son to be released and Dorea moved back to sit beside Sirius, taking his hand once more as she did so. Her son was shaking and when she met his gaze she could see he was holding back the laughter that threatened to bubble forth. "That was cruel" he muttered, still trying and failing to completely stem the laughter bubbling up inside him.

"Cruel or not dear boy, they will never lay a hand on my children ever again. Now tell me more about my grandson, everything you know dear and I will tell you all about the night I gave into my urges and let a man young enough to be my son have his way with me." She laughed at the look of horror that filled his features and kissed his underfed cheek. "Tell me or I will give you far too many details that you will never have sex again for fear of the mental images it would conjure."

Her eyes met those of the eavesdropping pink haired witch before laughter erupted. Her sons cry of "Tonks don't you dare" brought on more than a few stares and she grinned wickedly. "Tell me about Harry, Sirius."...


	4. My Darling Boy

**Thank you all so much for your kind reviews. I honestly have been overwhelmed with the response that this story has received. I hope you all enjoy this new chapter.**

 **Disclaimer - I own nothing, except my obsession will all things Harry Potter.**

She knew he would be annoyed in the morning when he realized what she had done, but as she watched Sirius fall asleep on one of the beds in the hospital wing she knew it was what he really needed. The man had been dead on his feet and she could detect a slight odor of firewhiskey that needed to be addressed. She would see to it that that nonsense was taken care in the days coming but for now she was content that he was resting at last. Even if such rest only came because she persuaded Madame Pomphrey to slip him a sleeping draft.

She left him to his slumber and went and seated herself on the window ledge next to the young man who so resembled her James. It made her heart ache to know that he was gone, but it broke her even more that he never got to truly live and know the joy of watching his child grow. He might have been reckless and cheekier than a monkey on a cheering charm but she knew he would have made a wonderful father.

As she looked at Harry and saw so much of her son in him, but she also saw some of her Charlus and even her in him as well. She didn't say anything at first, she simply stroked her hand through that famously untamable Potter hair and looked at him. She saw him doing the exact same as her when his eyes met hers, she saw him look her over and a thousand questions all fighting to be asked at once die before they reached his lips. "You can ask me anything you want, Harry. I am sure you have questions and are more than likely angry, hurt and confused so ask me."

"Where were you when, well when everything happened? Why didn't you come and claim me, and how do you look almost the same age as Sirius and Remus?" Harry was unsure of this woman, and Professor Dumbledore had not explained much before aurors had come back to the school needing his attention. He had started explaining the prophecy and what it meant but not much on how his grandmother was alive. His friends were all asleep in the hospital wing and so he had been left with his own thoughts and confusion for the last few hours.

Dorea shifted so that she was facing him more now, and she longed to take him in her arms and hug him but she knew, just with a look, he would not welcome it. "I was doing something for the order, something that only a female of the Black family could have done. As you know the war started when your father was just a teenager. It was small things at first, strange disappearances and votes in the wizengamot becoming slowly more archaic.

"When I lost your Grandfather Charlus, I was lost and convinced that it had been set up. I loved that man far more than was sane, but from the age of sixteen, I knew he was the one for me. Brave and reckless and entirely too charming, he could have had any girl in the school but I was determined to make him mine, so I did." She smiled wistfully, her gray eyes soft as she looked at her Grandson. "We caused quite the scandal, me running off to marry him almost gave my father a stroke. And when my Charlus died it felt as though some had blown a hole through my chest that I could never heal.

"So I did anything Albus and the order needed, James was away at school and my life without Charlus was empty. I did things that I am not proud of, and I made some of the worst decisions of my life. James was so young, only around your age when Charlus was killed. He had been working on a case, a wizard had reported his wife and small children were missing. Your Grandfather thought there was something suspicious about it, and he was right, the wizard had been abusive to his wife and children.

"They had fled in the middle of the night to escape him, and Charlus found her and them staying in a small muggle flat, the eldest child had a broken arm that had been incorrectly healed so he had taken them all to St Mungo's and issued a call for the husband's arrest."

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment "One of the healers had been working on an experimental treatment for dragonpox and had been moving some of the vials he had collected for storage when they had tripped and smashed every sample. Your grandfather being the man that he was, tried to help and ended up breathing in a fatal dosage of the infectious gas.

"He died only three hours later in my arms and a large part of me wanted to die with him. But I couldn't leave James an orphan, not when he needed me more than ever." Her voice was hollow as she spoke, and she took a deep steadying breath, looking first at Harry and then looking at Sirius on reflex, silently thankful that she hadn't lost him as well.

"So I begged Albus to give me something, anything to do to tear me from my grief. I started to research my family's history and the magics that were unique to it. There was a reason Old Voldewort targeted those he could in my family and the order needed to know why." She grinned as she saw the shocked look on Harry's face at the nickname before continuing.

"They had tortured Sirius to try and make him join them and he would have had to offer something incredible to have Orion part with his son and heir. Orion was the one that brought Sirius to my home, tortured and almost dead, and he didn't look much better. I don't think Sirius even remembers that he was so weak for weeks after what they had done to him. Orion, his father was killed not a month later, and he never changed his will, so Sirius remained his son and heir, which makes him Lord Black."

She shook her head and sighed. "Sirius hated that title, spurned it and did everything he could to try and escape it. It took me months so convince him not to change his name and lose everything he was entitled to. Stubborn reckless little lion cub." She smiled fondly at the memory of him defiantly denying who he was, and the fierce debates they had where she would verbally back him into a corner and watch him struggle with who he thought he was meant to be.

"While I was talking into being Lord Black I discovered many things, some of it quite alarming. Like the reason, the Plague was nicknamed the Black plague was because of one of my idiotic forefathers. And also that the Black family has more daughters than sons for a very specific reason. Daughters back then were expendable, we cost them gold and did nothing to continue the family line.

"So twice a century three daughters would disappear, and with some research and a lot of blackmailing my nitwitted nephews, I found out what happened. They would be placed in what the family referred to as the sanctuary. There their magic and life forces would be sapped until they were no more. Thus ensuring that should anything happen to the Lord of the house or his heir, one would be brought back in order to continue the line.

"I thought it foul and disgusting and if I hadn't have run off and married Charlus that could have been my fate as well. With Orion dead and Regulus having been presumed dead I started to realize that time was coming again, and that Cygnus' daughters were meant to have been placed in there too. Cygnus had been wounded during a duel some ten years passed and had never had a living son, and Sirius was the last male left of the family. If something happened to him, which was looking more and more likely with each passing day, the Black family would be no more."

She turned her head to watch Sirius sleeping soundly and smiled, he might not have been her son by birth, but he was hers by choice. "He's furious with me for saving him, and I only wish I could have done the same for my James." She met his confused gaze and with her wand traced a series of runes in the air between them. Some were Black and sizzled, others were pure white and shone so bright they almost hurt to look at. "My ancestor Arctus Leonidas Black performed a blood rite that tied the fate of the Black house to that of Black magic itself. He did it thinking that our family would never die out, but instead created a way to end dark magic. All you had to do was kill us off and wait for the bloodline to die.

"Well I am sure you are thinking that can't be a bad thing, dark magic certainly lives up to its name and people do many evil things with it. But they also do some amazing things with it. Almost all healing magic when it is cast is dark magic because you are seeking to destroy or purge the source of the illness. If we suddenly couldn't do those things anymore, thousands would suffer needlessly, all those spells that keep our society a secret from the muggles would fail and chaos would undoubtedly ensue.

"I'd like to think that we would find a way past it, learn to live in a coexisting society with muggles but our magic would be forever unbalanced. Not to mention all the old families would probably have kittens about their houses suddenly being unwarded. As amusing as that would be in some cases, with families like the Notts that could be dangerous. Thoros Nott wouldn't need dark magic to commit mass genocide of any unsuspecting muggles that wanted to look around the castle that appeared out of thin air." Her lips curled in disgust just thinking about that lecherous old fool.

"I think Voldemort wanted to replicate that kind of magic for himself, but instead of using bloodlines he would use the loyalty of his followers to keep him alive. He probably hoped it would make him live forever and was convinced he could replicate it in a far more useful manner for his purposes. So I became the sacrifice, deaged myself so that I would be young enough to survive the process and then I altered what I was doing. Instead of letting it kill me, I put myself in a state of neither living nor dead. I made a link between myself and Albus so that if Sirius survived and the war was over he could call me from my slumber. He was the only one that knew I was still alive, and he and I will be having many words about the fact that you were orphaned and he chose to leave me there."

The last words were said with a bite and Harry looked at her in shock. "Don't let those twinkling blue eyes of his fool you darling, he's as sneaky as a Slytherin when he wants to be, and he will pay for making that decision." He laughed for the first time and Dorea's heart hurt when she heard it, he might look like her James but he had Charlus' laugh. Without thinking, she reached out and wrapped her hand around his. "I am so sorry I wasn't here when you needed me, but I hope I can make it right with you somehow. I would love to get to know you, maybe even be a part of your life."

She pulled out a rather ornate golden locket from under her shirt and lifted the chain off over her head and passed it to him. "There are a few pictures in there I am sure you'd love to see, your parents, the boys when they were young, and your Grandfather as well. I am sure you hear a lot that you look like James, but my word, you sound like my Charlus so very much. He would have adored you, darling." She wiped an errant tear from her eye and swallowed back all that emotion that was threatening to spill forth from her.

"Who's the baby swaddled in pink?" Harry asked, looking at the pudgy little face snore softly in their sleep, their little hand stroking the soft pink blanket. It was opposite of a picture he guessed was his grandfather, graying black beard and messy hair so familiar to that he saw in the mirror every day. He was laughing and Harry couldn't help but think he looked like a young Santa Claus.

Dorea looked over at the image and smiled, even as inside she ached. "That would be my daughter, who isn't all that much older than you. I conceived her after your Grandfather with a married man I had no right to be near. But I was lonely and he was handsome and charming and so terribly easy to open up to that I found myself giving into him when I knew better."

She laughed at his shocked face and tapped one of the runes with her finger when she noticed the little blonde girl start to stir. At Harry's curious look she explained. "It's a silencing rune, this and a few of the others here are keeping our conversation private. And by the look on your face, I am guessing you didn't take ancient runes. I could teach you if you'd like." When he nodded she smiled.

"Another time, maybe when there aren't sleeping children around. Now I kept my pregnancy secret, I had committed myself to maintaining the family magic and there was no one who could take my place unless I wanted to kidnap some of my young cousins and well, murder isn't something I will ever endorse. I couldn't burden James, he was so young and if he knew what I planned he would fight me against it, offer himself up instead. I would not hand her over to her father, his wife is well, psychotic would be an understatement to describe her. So I decided she would need to be hidden.

"I was having lunch in Oxford with Augusta Longbottom and a few other friends when I saw a young couple, clearly muggle and obviously heartbroken so I listened in. They had just lost another child and the doctors had told them they would never have another. Having been told the same before I had James I knew just how soul destroying that could be. So I looked into them, found out everything I could and when the time came I visited their home. Giving them my daughter almost destroyed my very soul but it breathed life back into them. They were so happy and a simple charm hid the information that she wasn't theirs until I could come back and claim her."

Harry found himself reaching across and taking his grandmother's hand without realizing it. He squeezed her hand and could see from the far away look in her eyes just how much it had hurt her to have to make that decision. "Why?" he asked. When she looked confused Harry continued. "Why did you have to hide her? I know you didn't like his wife but surely her father could have..?"

Dorea was vehemently shaking her head "No. No, I couldn't do that Harry. You might as well know as you will undoubtedly learn soon enough. My daughter, her father was not someone the order or well, you would approve of. Her father belongs to an old family, one with a rather notorious reputation even in my day. Her father is Rodolphus Lestrange and it's a rather a long story as to how it came about. Let's just say the order needed information and well, it was well known he couldn't stand his wife and was lonely and I wasn't above taking a deaging potion and seducing it out of him. So no I couldn't give her to her father. He isn't as terrible as some of the others but I didn't want her anywhere near those fanatics."

"I kind of understand why you did what you did, I even think saving Sirius was a good thing, I just wish I would have had someone when I was growing up instead of…" Harry trailed off looking at his feet and trying not to get lost in those hopes of what if. He was scared to admit that knowing who she was, she wouldn't want him or something would happen and he would be left with the Dursleys. He was startled when he felt arms go around him and he was pulled into a hug. He hesitantly hugged his Grandmother back and tried not to tremble.

"I don't know what happened when I was gone, Sirius told me a little and what he told me has me wanting to find your aunt and uncle and hex them senseless. Say the word and it will be done, after all, what are Grandma's for?" She gave her best sneer, but her smile ruined it. "I'll also need to air out the family home, Potter Hollow and get you a room all set up. I could set you up in James' old room but I think you'd prefer something of your own." She trailed off when she felt tears begin to soak her shirt and kissed the top of his head, holding him tighter and rocking him in her arms the way she would when Sirius would have panic attacks after she took him in.

"My darling boy" she whispered into his hair and let her own tears and self-loathing take hold of her. He might forgive her, but she would never quite forgive herself for missing so much of his life as well as her daughters. Albus Dumbledore was going to look at Alastor Moody with envy by the time she got through with that old goat.


	5. Insanity Becomes Her

The Croft - Lestrange Estate - June 23, 1996.

Thorfinn Rowle was ready to explode. For the last five days, he had been stuck in the Lestrange family estate keeping Bellatrix away from the dark lord. To say that he was furious with those who had been at the department of mysteries six days ago when the world finally learned that he had returned was an understatement. He had crucio'd everyone who had been there and even Amycus Carrow when he had dared to interrupt him.

The Dark Lord had taken up residence inside the Malfoy Manor and banned Bellatrix from his side. To say that she was taking it badly was an understatement. The south wing was destroyed, the house-elves had taken to hiding in his suite whenever she got too close, to the point where he couldn't take a shower without finding at least three of them using toothbrushes on the grouting. He even suspected they were sleeping in closets to avoid their volatile mistress.

Rabastan Lestrange, her brother in law, looked at the whole thing as the most amusing show he had ever seen. With every room she destroyed, he took bets on how long it would take her and what spells she would use. According to him, this little display was nothing, he said the west wing had been destroyed the night she married Rodolphus. The west wing was modern compared to rest of the estate, having obviously been added in the last century. What bothered Thorfinn the most was that somehow he had unofficially become her keeper. When her rage would quieten and she lost momentum she would seek him out and cling to him as though he was an anchor in her madness.

She had spoken only briefly during those times, and when Thorfinn asked why she was with him, she would become violent. It was Rabastan who gleefully informed him that she hated her husband and his family, that she despised that her sister got to choose who they married and she was forced to wed the "high lord pauper". Having been living in their home for a month Thorfinn didn't understand until Rabastan explained that she hated him and his bleeding heart brother for not being as proactive and determined in their support of the dark lord as she was. Their marriage had only been consummated after copious doses of love potions and both of them had avoided the other as much as possible.

When the other residents of the house had seen how being around the tempestuous Viking had calmed the banshee death-eater they had abandoned him to the task of keeping her away from the dark lord. At this moment she was sat in the solarium, staring out at the tree-lined grounds, humming some tune that sounded haunting to Thorfinn's ears. She was clutching a doll and she looked smaller than usual, as she rocked back and forth. The madness of Azkaban was so apparent in her quiet moments that Thorfinn thought that this was when she was at her most terrifying.

He took a seat next to her on the wicker sofa and was not surprised when the witch leaned against him, her small arm looping around his as her yellowing nails traced the skin on his wrist. He could see out the corner of his eye a couple of house-elves scurrying to repair the damage their mistress had wrought before she would become enraged again. These moments gave the towering Viking too much time to think. This was not what he had planned for his life, but his father was unable to serve the dark lord and the Rowle family had a deep disliking of Dumbledore and his politics. He had wanted to travel the world, study obscure magic and use it to further his own causes.

Instead, because his father had burned himself alive in a fit of rage Thorfinn had been thrust into the position of the family patriarch far earlier than he had intended and he was responsible for his sister's and mother's well-being. His father was still alive, but barely and his bitterness was tangible every time Thorfinn went home. He had offered Thorfinn up on a platter to the dark lord in an attempt to get his position back but he was useless and the dark lord had known this. Instead, Thorfinn had been given a position on the Wizengamot and now had weekly assemblies to attend that bored him to tears.

His initiation into the death-eater ranks had been overseen by Bellatrix and she had taken a liking to him after seeing him set an entire muggle village in Romania on fire with fiend fire. Whilst the screams had haunted him she had danced to them as though they were producing the most euphoric music that she had ever heard. She had spoken in his favor to the dark lord, getting him placed within the inner circle and often accompanying her on missions for the dark lord. Their master had pulled him aside and ordered him to make sure that she came to no harm, he did not think she would survive another extended stay amongst the dementors.

"Finn" he heard her whisper and tensed, wondering which part of her broken psyche had emerged this time, his mentor and the Bella he imagined she was before Azkaban or the banshee who would destroy everything just to see it destroyed. "Finn" she whispered a little louder and her eyes met his. "If I asked you a favor would you help me." He removed his arm from her clutches and wrapped it around her shoulder as though to warm her, but also to be able to restrain her just in case.

"If what you asked of me does not anger the dark lord or hurt his plans then I would help you. You've helped me and my sister's its only right that I help you if I can." He watches as she considers what he says, mulling it over to see if his answer is adequate. She leans further into him and he watches as she wandlessly casts a silencing charm around them, a small gesture that proves just how powerful she still is. "My cousin was saved from a death I know I managed to cause. He died, we all saw it and he came back with a woman. A woman I saw leaving this house nearly seventeen years ago. I want her destroyed and I want what she took from me back."

"You want her and your cousin dead?" He asked, and she growled, clearly not happy with being misunderstood. "No, I'll kill that traitor Sirius myself, and this time I'll drain all his blood to make sure he stays that way. No, I want what she created with my husband. He looked haunted when he saw her and there is a child on the Black family tree that comes solely from him. A girl, but the name is obscured and Kreacher can't read it. I want that child, and I want you to bring her to me. He has denied me children so I will take his for myself. Marry her if you have to, just bring her to me."

If he had not been raised in pureblood society he might have balked at the idea of someone suggesting not only that he get married but that he do so at someone else's behest. Marriages in pureblood society were a way of forming alliances and an alliance with the deranged witch and favorite of the dark lord was something he could see the benefit of. She had influences that he could use to his benefit further down the line. His mother and family had been nagging him to get married since his father's accident and one that had profit for him was one he would consider.

Thorfinn looked at her, and the fevered passion in her features and he knew she wouldn't hesitate to kill him if he refused her. Bring her a girl he didn't know or care about to keep in the insane witch on his side seemed like an easy deal for him to make. "If I bring her to you, what will you do for me in return? The dark lord may look unkindly on stealing the child of another death-eater, especially one he is as fond of as Rod."

She grinned, showing her rotting yellow teeth and eagerly sat up from him, looking like a child on Christmas morning. "He didn't tell the dark lord that she existed, he did not offer her to him as he required his followers do, he will be punished. I will be rewarded and you, my dear boy will be rewarded as well. I'll even insist that she becomes your bride, not one of those little blood traitor whores that have been following you around since you became Lord Rowle but a girl who has been so well hidden I have no doubt she will be chaste and pure and all yours for the corrupting. You'll have a bride to breed your heirs upon and maybe at long last the dark lord will rid me of that spineless fool I am forced to be married to."

Thorfinn watched the mania grow in her eyes and knew, just knew that if he didn't help her she would find someone who would after she destroyed him and probably his sisters as well. He knew it may take months for him to even find out the girl's name and then he would have to find her. "I'll help you" he spoke, cutting her off with a gesture when she went to speak. "I'll help you, but if the girl will cause me disfavor with the dark lord I will not marry her, I'll give her to Antonin and his perversions instead. I am lord of my family and have to protect it, I can not have a shameful lady of the house." She threw herself at him and hugged him tight, her happiness drawing loud, glass shattering laughter out of her. She stood and curtseyed to him with a look that promised absolute chaos and delight before she turned back to the window and spoke. "Kreacher couldn't read the name, but darling Draco heard them talking as they brought the children back to the school. The girl you're looking for is Hermione Granger."

Thorfinn remembered the annoying little swot from his final year in school who almost got him expelled and swore: "fuck".


	6. A Safe Place

" _Looking for a soft place_

 _Nothing more than a small taste_

 _Of a love that ended long ago_

 _Looking for a place to hide_

 _A warm bed on a cold night"_

 _ **Allison Moorer - A soft place to fall.**_

Hermione had never been happy when the school year ended, yes it meant that she would get to see her parents and relax a little, but her mind was always eager to learn new things. However as the Hogwarts Express had pulled into King's Cross station and she saw the assembled guard waiting for herself, Harry and Ron she sighed. She had endured nine months of Umbridge and once again almost died. Dolohov's curse had left an ugly scar on her heart and along her ribs and still ached when she moved. Even Harry's paranoia had been draining on her but she found his new found enthusiasm even harder to deal with.

The knowledge of her parents not being her parents, her being Harry's aunt and daughter of his grandmother and a death eater made her stomach roll. She had been angry ever since she had been told the truth and angrier still when she was informed by Dumbledore and Dorea that they had removed the spells that had been placed on her parents and that they had been obliviated of all knowledge of her for their protection as well as hers. Hermione had managed to hold her temper until she dared to call her Cassiopeia. Then she had exploded in a rage she could still feel simmering in her veins. She yelled until her lungs gave out and then she whipped out her wand and Harry had restrained her from cursing the woman who had single-handedly destroyed her life in the ten days whilst she had slept.

Harry had spent the whole train ride trying to convince her that Dorea wasn't that bad but she was having none of it. That woman had erased all knowledge of her from her parents and then proceeded to ship them off to Australia for a new life. It was only after Dorea and Harry had left the Headmaster's office and she had been chastised for losing her control, that Dumbledore had deigned to ask some of her questions. Her father was one Rodolphus Lestrange and as his only child, she was now his heir, which meant legally of his accounts and properties were hers. Not that she really cared, she wouldn't touch any of it, the only reason she wasn't angry at him was because she had been assured he neither knew she existed or played a hand in hiding her in the muggle world.

She doubted Dorea's sincerity that she couldn't have left her with James, Sirius or Remus. She felt as though she was Dorea's dirty little secret and no matter how many times she had tried she could not wash off that feeling of being unclean since she gained this knowledge. It seemed however that no one cared how she felt, apparently she was meant to be grateful for now being a "pureblood" and all that sacred twenty-eight nonsense. Her inelegant snort had amused the twins but had earned the censure of one Molly Weasley but Hermione ignored the red-headed matriarch having no patience for her joining in on her misery. So she had fumed silently for the last six days of the term.

She unloaded her trunk, charmed to be weightless and cuddled Crookshanks close as she alighted the train and trailed behind Harry and Ron as they headed towards the crowd waiting for them. As the crowd made their way to the Dursley family and attentions were elsewhere Hermione slipped in with the moving crowd of students leaving the hidden platform and escaped. With quick steps, she slipped the hood of her jacket up over her head and hurried to the northbound train and slipped inside. The final stop was Leeds and she didn't really breathe until the train slowly pulled from the station.

Her head leaned back against the headrest and Hermione relaxed for the first time since she was cursed and woke up to this nightmare. She hadn't thought she would be able to escape but took her chance when she realized Moody was not part of the guard waiting for Harry. Whilst she knew what she was doing was risky she couldn't face an entire summer with that woman trying to replace her mother. No matter what way Hermione looked at it, she couldn't get past the idea that she had been disposable to the witch. She shouldn't let it hurt her, but Hermione found that part of her was destroyed with that knowledge. Her identity had been taken from her and Hermione wondered when she looked in the mirror now just who she was.

She always thought she looked a little like both her parents, but now she could see her wild hair was from Dorea, but all her other features came from someone else. She had gone to the Room of Requirement and stole the clipping from the Daily Prophet where the ten escaped death-eaters sneered from their mug shots. In one a tall man with dirty blond hair stared up at her with a bored expression. His eyes were similar to her own but in the black and white photo, she could not tell the color. She didn't know why but she had kept the image now safely hidden in the pages of her journal. The image filled her with a longing that she didn't understand and yet she felt it. Dorea was loud and forceful and she despised her for taking away her parents. She hadn't wanted Hermione, she herself had said she was a consequence. So why was she bulldozing her way into Hermione's life now?

The train ride to Leeds was uneventful, she purchased a ticket to Leeds from the conductor, bought a sandwich and drink and watched the horizon until she reached Leeds. The conductor, a young man with pretty blue eyes and a cheeky grin had stopped by her a few times to chat between stops and Hermione was grateful for the distraction. "Awfully big trunk you have with you Love, sure you can handle that thing by yourself?" He'd asked when they got to Leeds, but she had merely smiled and politely declined his offer of help.

From there she took another two short train rides until she found herself in the sleepy west Yorkshire village of Haworth. She fished into her coat and found the keys to the little house her Grandmother Audrey Granger had left her. It was a quaint stone cottage with Ivy growing up the side just off Main Street and she knew the order would not know to look for her here. It had two bedrooms and a small cellar and Hermione's Grandmother had chosen to retire in the village, drawn there by the history and had stayed there for the genuinely lovely people that lived there.

Hermione opened the door, reset the electronic security alarm and locked up behind her. She released an impatient Crookshanks to explore the little house and made her way to the kitchen. Opening her trunk she pulled out the snacks and drinks she had managed to convince the house-elves in the Hogwarts kitchens to give her. It wasn't much but at least she would be fed until the shops opened again in the morning. The kitchen was all cherry wood with eggshell colored walls and if she closed her eyes she could picture her grandmother pottering around the kitchen once more. She sunk into a chair at the small table and let her tears fall at last. Tears turned to broken sobs and Crookshanks, as though sensing she needed him, hopped up onto the table and wiggled his way into her arms.

Her chest ached, both from the curse and the pain of losing everything she had ever known. She didn't know how long she cried but eventually, she moved from her seat and slowly made her way up the steps to the bed she knew was waiting. The main bedroom was musty from being sealed so long so Hermione cracked the window. The room was decorated in purples and silver, a canopied bed loomed in the center, too big for the room but Hermione had never been happier to see a bed. Kicking off her shoes, she quickly changed, choosing her soft flannel pajamas that wouldn't irritate her wounds and she dropped into the waiting covers.

She didn't want to sleep in silence, too many nights in the hospital wing and no dreamless sleep potions had Hermione both bone weary and afraid to sleep. She had a feeling she would see Dolohov cursing her once more in her dreams. So she turned on the old stereo next to the bed, the radio playing country music helped settle her and she curled up on the sheets letting someone else sing the blues to her. Crookshanks had already curled up on one of the many pillows and was purring in contentment, his squished face a picture of contentment as he settled in for the night with her. She stroked behind his ears and let his purrs and the music lull her into slumber.

The next morning she was woken by Crookshanks yowling at the window, where she sleepily recognized Hedwig waiting patiently to be let inside. Hermione was not sure how owls always knew where to find people but she had not interested in being told off. She took the letter but sent Hedwig off without a reply, feeling a tad mean at the affronted look the snowy owl had given her. "Harry can just wait, I am in no mood for him right now." she had told the owl and then stomped to the bathroom for a hot shower. When she emerged from the steaming water she took some of the pain potions that Madame Pomfrey had sent her home with and whimpered at the almost instant relief it gave her. As she dressed for the day in a light tee and jeans she stared at the letter as though it might explode. It wasn't a howler, but she knew Harry would not be happy with her.

Steeling her nerves, she lifted the letter and opened it, biting her lip as she read the missive.

" _Hermione,_

 _I am hoping that you ran and that you weren't kidnapped by death-eaters because of me. If you are kidnapped and somehow still reading this, I am an arsehole and you can curse me when you escape. If not, you caused absolute chaos, Remus is mad at himself for not watching you and Ron thinks you're being selfish. I don't but I do wish you had talked to me, maybe had someone come with you. I am worried about you Hermione._

 _I know you're hurting, and I haven't really been all that supportive of you since Dorea arrived. I know you didn't ask for this and I got consumed in finally having family that didn't hate me and didn't stop to think just how much all of this must have hurt you. Before you wonder where I got so wise, I didn't. George pointed it out to me and I am sorry. You should also know he suggested to the order that you have a secret love nest and are currently shacked up with Viktor Krum. I look forward to seeing you hex him for that._

 _I want you to know that I love you, you are like the sister (calling you my aunt is too weird so let's not go there) I always wanted and a part of me is really happy that you are my family. If you get this, write me back even if it's just to call me a sod and to tell me to piss off. I just need to know you are okay._

 _The "adults" in the order are all fighting in the kitchen of the manor, they won't let us know what is going on as usual and Fred and George were sent to shoo us away. George upon hearing Ron and I arguing decided to enlighten us just what a pair of inconsiderate gits we are. George said a lot of things but the gist is that Ron and I are prats and that you deserve better friends. They also said to tell you their flat is warded and you are welcome to crash there. I don't know how you're feeling, for me finding my family has been a happy thing and I blindly assumed you would feel the same way. I know you already had a family that loved you and loved them back. I am sorry Hermione and if you need me, just send word I'll figure something out._

 _The grown-ups are arguing over whether you ran or whether you were taken, but personally, it just seems like a whole lot of arguing and blame throwing and not much else. We are at Potter Hollow, it's a manor house that's pretty much like someone expanded the Gryffindor common room into an estate house. Ron's annoyed that they won't be staying here, Mrs. Weasley has decided to take her children home to the burrow so it will just be me, Remus, Sirius, and Gran when the order leaves. In the letter there's a shard of glass, it's part of a two-way mirror, I already nicked the other one from Sirius' room so you can talk to me if you want._

 _Love you, Hermione, please let me know you're okay._

 _Harry."_

Hermione scowled in annoyance even as she reached for the mirror and peered into it. She was torn between wanting to kiss George for talking some sense into Harry and wanting to hex him for the love shack comment. Either one or both was very likely right now and she was grateful he wasn't with her right now. After a moment an image of a snoring Harry, glasses askew and messy hair fluffed up by tossing in his sleep. Hermione smiled in spite of herself.

"Harry" she called and laughed as he jumped out of his skin, wand drawn and searching the room before looking at her reflection in the mirror. "Hey, shh… Don't talk and I will make this quick. I will be sending this back to you, and I am safe and I am not anywhere you all know to look for me. I need space Harry, I need to figure this all out and I can't do it with her breathing down my neck trying to play mother to me. I had a mother, a wonderful charming mother who instilled a love of books and learning in me and now she's been taken from me and I'm left with a mess. Please just give me that time to sort things out."

"Hermione…" Harry sighed and shook his head, clearly not happy with keeping secrets. "Fine, I will give you space, but keep that mirror with you. I almost lost Sirius and I am not losing you if I can help it. The order is keeping secrets from me again so I'll keep this one for you. Everyone is worried, but I'll stay quiet for now. You can have a week, if you don't call or send word that we can come and get you, I am raising all hell and coming for you myself." He sat up against the pillows righting his glasses even as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"I will call, in a week." She promised "Same time as today and don't try and call me here. I am putting this in my underwear drawer so all you'll see is darkness if you try." Hermione twisted a curl around her finger knowing she really needed to attend to her hair before the frizz had a chance to settle in. "And Harry, this is a woman who was willing to die and sacrifice her own children's happiness for a cause. Do not get suckered in, she might be in the order but that doesn't mean we just trust her."

Harry grumbled but agreed and they said their goodbyes. She knew Harry would spend all week trying to figure out where she was regardless of having promised to give her a week. She also knew that unless they actually looked at muggle records they wouldn't know she owned this house. It was her secret and she hadn't told anyone, well nearly anyone. She had mentioned it to Luna when they were talking books and Luna mentioned she had read Wuthering Heights, which was set where Hermione was right now. Whether Luna would remember or be asked to share this knowledge was such a small chance that Hermione didn't worry too much.

Hermione finished getting ready and headed out into the morning sunlight, walking up the hill of Main Street. She stopped in a bakery and ordered tea and a bacon sandwich for breakfast. She spent her morning milling around the shops, finding old books and a few essentials she would need for the week. It was a routine that she kept up over the next few days and her evenings would be spent in the house, curled up on the plush sofa reading well into the night. By Wednesday she had been there for five days and she felt safe and secure in her routine.

She went to the park as the sun was shining and sat beneath a large tree watching as kids chased each other through the bandstand and down to the playground area, their parents following at a much more leisurely pace. She sat drinking a soda and reading Paint the Wind by Cathy Cash Spellman, and as Hermione fell more and more for the kind natured Hart and lamented Fancy's choices she lost herself in the beautifully spun heartbreaking tale. She didn't know how long she had been sat there but she was startled when someone sat down beside her and placed a bottle of water by her knee.

Her eyes shot around and a gasp left her. "You…?!"

Glacier blue eyes filled with mirth met hers. "Careful now Princess, we wouldn't want to attract any attention now would we?" Thorfinn Rowle, the bane of her existence during her first year at Hogwarts was reclining next to her, broader than she remembered, braids in his blond hair and a scruffy beard lining his features. He looked even more like a Viking than she remembered. His long legs were stretched out before him and he seemed to have filled out even more over the last few years.

"What do you want?" she huffed, even as her eyes scanned the area to check her escape routes, she couldn't believe she had been so foolish as to lose herself in a story when she knew she might be being watched. Her wand, which was in her bag beside her, was useless to her as the hulking Viking made himself comfortable beside her.

"Rude, did McGonagall forget to teach you manners since I left or have you sunk to the levels of your delinquent house's morals." He shifted and placed an arm around her shoulders laughing when she stiffened. "Not even a pureblood for a month and already you adopt the puritan style behaviors, your father will be proud."

Hermione scowled and tried to dislodge his arm but it was like dealing with an overgrown mutt that wasn't house trained. She moved and he followed, annoying her all the way. "Urgh, pureblood my arse, there's no such thing it's all political propaganda and I don't give a flying crup about it." The comment about her father stuck a nerve and she turned to face him, whacking his leg with her empty drink bottle when he didn't let her go. "Stop that. And what do you mean my father would be proud. He's a muggle they gave up caring about that nonsense decades ago."

"Ahh Princess you're still such a crappy liar. You know what I am and I know who you are. I even know your old man, not well mind you, his wife tends to be the more vocal of the two. What I don't know is why the order is searching for you in Wiltshire when your pretty little behind is sunning herself in Yorkshire. I'd almost think you are hiding from them, or should I say her." He lifted her into his lap when she moved to escape, sitting her on his lap so she straddled him and wrapped her tight in his arms so she couldn't escape.

"Keep struggling Princess, and this time you'll feel what you couldn't tear your first-year eyes away from." The reminder of that embarrassing moment in her first year, when she had walked into what she thought was an abandoned classroom only to see Thorfinn and a pretty Ravenclaw fucking on a desk. That image was seared into her brain. Her scream had summoned Professor Vector and the ensuing chaos had earned her his wrath for the rest of the year.

Hermione growled out at him, wriggling to get free even as he held her close, determined to be free of the lumbering oaf. "Let me go" she enunciated slowly only to whimper in pain when he squeezed to hard along her ribs. His eyes narrowed and despite her protests he lifted the side of her top until he could see the purple angry scar and swore, his thumb gently tracing the mark. His hiss of sympathy did little to appease the wash of shame at him seeing the scar she had quickly grown to loathe. When she tried to hide it from him, he gently pushed her hand aside, wandlessly casting as spell that helped her a lot with the pain. She didn't know who was more surprised by his gesture, him or her.

"I see you met Dolohov, not that you need to worry, the dark lord is content to let him rot in Azkaban for his mistakes, for a while at least. Even then Lestrange might just kill him for daring to point a wand at you." When he waited for her to comment, only to be met by an angry stare he shrugged and continued, his thumb still tracing her scar in an oddly soothing motion. "Not going to lie to you, so in the interests of full disclosure, yes I am a death-eater, but no it was not my choice. My father set himself on fire in a snit and in a bid to gain some kind of power sold me out to the dark lord. Didn't work for him, I am still lord of my house but I have to serve to keep my mother and sisters safe." He was quiet for a few moments, his hands holding her in place even as he searched her face, watching for her reaction.

"Well all was quiet and boring until two weeks ago. I was stuck in this gargantuan estate with a psychotic witch babysitting her whilst she set her mind to destroy everything around her in a snit because she had angered a man she considers her personal god. Most of the time it's all bile and rage and ducking flying objects, but then she would get really quiet, like that small broken remnant of sanity peaks through the veil and you see why she is his favourite. She tells me a story of her bribing a house elf throughout the year, killing her cousin only for him to walk out of the veil with a woman in tow. This woman, mind you she seen leaving her house looking thoroughly fucked and finds her naked husband in the same state.

"She hates his guts anyway so she doesn't really care. Except the house elf tells her that months later his name on the family tree had a child coming from him and when he eventually managed to find it on another branch, the name of the woman who'd conceived her husband's child. She is bound by the magic of her marriage that she can't harm any child of his house before you panic but she is angry. He has denied her a child, instead professing he would rather see his line end." He shook his head. "So years later they escape Azkaban and the same house elf after the events at the ministry tells her the name of the child. Her nephew Draco, who had been in the hospital wing himself when you are all brought in, even hears members of the order confirm it.

"The pain in arse witch who had helped foil Draco and again was actually related to him and he tells his aunt the girls name. One Hermione Jean Granger or on the tapestry Hermione Cassiopeia Charlotte Lestrange. Quite the mouthful there Princess. Almost as bad as mine." He smirked, adjusting her on his lap as he scanned the park around him, looking for any who might be watching them. "Well, she asked me to find you and bring you to her, after all as your stepmother she has parental rights to you as all pureblood children belong to their fathers. What better way to acknowledge your birth of course than to have you join your family?"

When Hermione paled, he rubbed his thumb along her lower lip, easing it from where she had been gnawing on it and shook his head. "I am not taking you there, at least not today, you wouldn't want to join them today and she would not welcome you there. Your uncle Rabastan is an acquired taste and his parties would probably make your skin crawl. No, today I wanted to see your reaction for myself before I agree to any final decisions. I did however bring you this."

He reached into his cloak and pulled out a roll of parchment and then lifted her left hand placing a ring on her index finger. "Relax Princess, the ring is a mark of what house you belong to so that anyone from that house who sees it on you will know you are to protected not harmed. A gift from your father, who heard his wife's request and came to me with one of his own. I have no idea what he wrote so don't ask, today I am just the messenger.

"I will say this though, the man is actually quite honorable all things considered. His mind is intact although Merlin knows how he managed that as everyone else who escaped that hell hole is slightly unhinged. You lucked out there whether you agree with me or not." She huffed and tried to escape his hold once more, smacking his chest when her attempts were foiled. Princess, don't blindly follow Dumbledore, I was sold into my slavery, don't walk yourself into that man's noose. He preaches the greater good, and so did Grindelwald and look what that man tried to do.

"Secondly, if you are staying around these parts and get lonely, my little twin sisters Astrid and Anya are usually on main street muggle watching in the afternoons. I'll tell them to keep an eye out for you. A pair of Hufflepuffs without a mean bone in their bodies and a couple of years younger than you. Would be nice for them to spend time with someone who isn't drunk and bitter." He ended, and she knew he was talking about his father. She remembered him all too well. Thorfinn intimidated her, but that man terrified her and she couldn't find it in herself to feel sorry for him having set himself on fire.

"Why would your sister's be here and why would I ever seek anyone in your family out?" Hermione just wanted him to let her go, but she knew, just knew she wasn't escaping until he let her.

His slow grin did things to her she would rather die than ever admit to. He licked his lips, clearly enjoying himself and having her undivided attention. "My family home in Ireland is being remodeled, my father having burnt half of it to the ground after all. So the family and I are staying here. We have a home, hidden from muggle eyes just up there on Brow Top. My sisters get bored and sneak out with our house elf Flora who keeps them from being harmed. I am sure they would love to see you, as I assure you the company at home is rather foul. Although it is far more pleasant than where I am currently forced to stay. Princess, you're going to need allies when news of who you are becomes public knowledge because most people will turn on you as the child of a killer. They are kind and better yet, they know how to walk into the snake pit that is pureblood society and not get bitten."

With those words hanging in the air he stood with her in his arms, sliding her down his torso so she could feel every ridge of his abs as she slid across them. She remembered them all too well and she had thought she had gotten over the crush she had stupidly developed for him. Yet there it was, bursting to life as he smirked knowingly at her and he lifted her hand kissing it. "I'll see you soon Princess, feel free to write to me if you get lonely, I have a feeling you've become a whole lot more interesting than the little swot I remember."

With that, he left and Hermione clenched her hand around the parchment, watching him go with equal parts fear, confusion and lust. She let him get almost to the exit before she ran, bolting in the other direction, slipping into an alleyway and leaning with her back against the wall, heart pounding in her chest. A Step-mother that wants her kidnapped, possibly branded as scum for being the daughter of a death-eater and now a letter from her father. So much for a safe place to hide.

Author's Note.

For those of you that have been waiting so patiently for this next installment I hope that it was worth the wait. I debated a lot about who would meet her in that part, there are several written versions, but Thorfinn won in the end. Thank you for reading and remember, I own nothing, I just play in the sandbox. If you haven't already head over to the Death-Eaters Express group on facebook, you'll find some amazing authors there.


	7. Hurt

**Authors Note.**

It has been a very long time since I updated this story and for that, I apologise. I struggled a lot with this chapter, it needed so much to happen and it became very dark and very poignant all at once. So I will do something I don't always do, this chapter contains imagery that will upset some of you. I hope that you enjoy the story and please review, your feedback does help form how I shape this story.

Lots of love, Sinsofdragons.

* * *

" _I hurt myself today to see if I still feel._

 _I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real._

 _The needle tears a hole, the old familiar sting._

 _Try to kill it all away, but I remember everything._

 _What have I become?My sweetest friend,_

 _Everyone I know goes away in the end._

 _And you could have it all, my empire of dirt._

 _I will let you down, I will make you hurt."_

 _ **Johnny Cash -Hurt.**_

* * *

Hermione had wandered around for three hours before heading back home, and even then she only did so because hunger won out over her stubbornness. The missive from her father felt like it was burning a hole in her hand the longer she held it, but she was afraid of what it might say, or not say. She knew she was probably being unfair but a part of her wanted to hate him for being anyone but the man she had called Dad all her life. A bigger part of her was so upset with Dorea and how she had bulldozed through Hermione's world that she wanted him to be everything that she wasn't. So that was why she hadn't read the letter yet.

She got home and made pasta and played with Crookshanks for a while. It was early evening before she sat down on the sofa in the living room, twisting the parchment in her hands. Stealing her nerves even as her hands shook, she broke the seal and pulled the letter from the envelope. She noticed the penmanship was slanted and sharp but somehow remained very neat. The parchment even smelled faintly of sandalwood and somehow she felt more at ease from just that faint scent.

" _Darling Child,_

 _There are a million and more things I want to know and say, and even as I begin this letter I feel that my words will be neither enough for you nor I. So I will start with something simple, knowledge of your existence has filled me with an incandescent joy that I would have scoffed at in others had I not felt it myself. I did not expect to have a child, not after so long in that prison and yet there you sit, a gift I fear I am rather unworthy of. I will also say that I am sorry if learning where you come from brings you pain, it is not my intent but I am not so blind to see that such knowledge may not be welcome._

 _I hope that your life so far has been happy, that you have known joy and contentment and that the ones that raised you have been parents worthy of you. What little I have gleaned from others since learning of you professes of your intellect and kindness and yet I would hope that this is not all that you define yourself by. I would like the opportunity to get to know you and would hope that you might wish to know me as well, even if only to know where you come from. I guess you already know you are a Lestrange, I don't imagine that thought fills you with much joy from what you have no doubt read in the papers._

 _Being a Lestrange will open doors for you whether you want it to or not. There is a seat of the Wizengamot if you want it, Rabastan and I are currently not allowed to take it, but it is there. Gringotts has been notified of your existence so next time you visit, be sure to help yourself, money makes great armour in certain circles and somehow I think you will need it when you return to Hogwarts. I would like to tell you some wonderful things as well, but I feel it is better to address the hippogriff in the room._

 _I am not an innocent man, I have made choices and walked the darkest path and it is one I would not want you to follow. I have done things that whilst I do not regret them, I can understand they will be hard for you to accept. The Longbottom family will most likely scorn you now darling, but know that there was a reason for what happened to them. Their actions broke Bella, and as unhappy as our marriage is, I refuse to lament them their well-deserved fate. Bella will never forgive them, and I find myself agreeing with her more and more as the years have passed._

 _Your uncle, Rabastan and I are the last males of our line, and your uncle is not likely to produce any children. His predilections lean more towards men if you understand me. He very much likes the look of Lord Rowle, whose acquaintance with you I am not sure I approve of. He has a rather colourful history but seeing as mine is streaked with red and black I have very little I can say without being hypocritical. Just remember that there are consequences to touching darkness and I would hope that you never have to learn them._

 _I have a request for you, I would like to meet you. When and where with whoever makes you feel safe. I would ask that you not bring the aurors or the order, but that is not my choice to make. I would like to know you as you, not as who everyone else would tell me you are. The ring that you are wearing is a form of Portkey. Spin it four times on your finger and it will summon me from wherever I am to where you are. This meeting is completely on you. I will not seek you out or ambush you, we will meet on your terms._

 _With all my love_

 _Your Father."_

The letter was not the only thing inside the envelope, there were also photographs of him, his brother and of his wife, Bellatrix. Her uncle was dark-haired, thick with waves that she knew most women would be envious of and it seemed that Azkaban had not managed to ravage him as it had so many others. His looks were marred only by the scar on his neck from what looked like a shackle had once been too tightly placed there. He did not smile in the photos, and you would almost think him disinterested until you looked into his eyes as he moved within the picture.

The pictures of Bella showed a woman with beauty that would have men worshipping her and women green with envy. In some she was dancing to a beat you could not hear with ribbons and jewels strung through her hair. In others she looked right through you, all somber and black attired as though she was mourning the loss of something so very dear to her. It was the last one that shook Hermione and left a sick feeling in her stomach.

Bella was stood by a window, joy and tenderness etched into her features as she swayed, her hand gently stroking her baby bump. It wasn't Bella that scared her, no it was the man she was talking to, his snake-like features were amused as he spoke to her. She had never seen him personally but he looked exactly as Harry described him, down to the slits in his nostrils. His hand was also on her bump, his own covered in blood leaving his mark on her skin.

Hermione dropped the pictures to the coffee table beside her, her hands shaking as she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Why would he send her those pictures, and why that one? She could understand the others, but that one? What had happened to that child? And why was his hand bloody as the stroked her bump? Hermione stood and began pacing wondering what she was meant to think. She had a logical mind, one would think she would be able to detach herself and look at this situation logically.

But she could not. Her emotions had been put through the ringer by Dorea and her heavy-handed self-serving agenda and now her father, whom she both intrigued and terrified her was sending her letters through Thorfinn Rowle. A man she had not thought about since he left Hogwarts and yet somehow knew where to find her when no one else had. She didn't understand it, she didn't have all the facts and there was no book in any library that could tell her where she what she should and should not do.

Her heart told her to meet him, to meet Rodolphus Lestrange and see the other half of the romance that made her. Was he like Dorea? Would he try and take over her life as well with heavy hands and little compassion? Would he be like Dolohov and greet her with stony features and a chilling look in his gaze as though she were something staining his bloodline? His letter was all kind words and filled her with hope, but the pictures? The pictures or at least one of them filled her heart with an icy dread.

She pulled the ring from her hand, and she could feel the faint hum of magic that some objects give off and she shivered. She needed to know but she wouldn't be stupid about it all. She ran upstairs and grabbed the mirror from her underwear drawer and brought it back downstairs placing it out of sight but should she scream Harry would know she had been found. She then scribbled a note with her address on beside the mirror shard, placing it just so that it could be read. Turning from rearranging things to hide it from plain view she found Crookshanks perched upon the grey armchair, his tail ticking impatiently as though he had been waiting for her.

She walked over and picked him up, taking the seat he had chosen and cuddling him for a few moments. She held onto him and she tried to talk herself out of doing this, whilst fretting that if she did not she would let her opinion of the man be shaped by those around her. Dorea, who considered him good enough to bed but not to tell he had a child. Remus and Sirius whose opinions were marred by their personal losses, and her peers who would call him a murderer. She shifted a little, still holding Crookshanks and began to turn the ring around on her finger.

She summoned her Gryffindor courage and quickly completed the turns, looking around for the slightest hint that it was working and tried not to panic too much when nothing at all happened. She looked around the room but there was no sign of anything happening. After a minute or two, she sighed, feeling ridiculous for her heart pounding and nothing happening at all. She slipped the ring back on her finger and then yelped as it seared hot and felt a rush of wind dance along her skin. There was a grunt, followed by a yelp and she was no longer the only person in her home… not that the others noticed her at first.

"...Fucking hell Bella, will you ever relent? So what if I foiled your plans to get back into the Dark lord's graces, you know he would not have seen you even if he had succeeded. He now has to waste his efforts on getting the likes of Malfoy from Azkaban's depths which means the goals he seeks must be put on hold again."

She wrenched her arm from her husband's grip, sneering at him, both far too caught up in their marital moment to realise they were not alone. "The Dark Lord knows we are his most loyal, but you, you faithless rat had a child with another woman, old enough to be your mother and yet you give me none. No child, no future, so I must look to other ways to seek glory for the oh so noble house of Lestrange." She scoffed, her tone heavy with sarcasm as she described the house she had been married into. Her skirts, twisted around her legs as she walked around her husband. They seemed black at first glance but when Hermione looked closer she could see the blues and green of her underskirts appearing through the black lace.

"Narcissa has a son, Rod. That bitch has had the easiest of lives, has never had to sacrifice a moment for anyone or anything and she lauds that boy before me, the one thing I have never had and I hate you for it." There was no madness in her eyes, not like Hermione remembered from the ministry, only loathing and anger clear on her features. "I want a child and if you will not give me one of my own, I will take yours."

Her father, his eyes meeting Hermione's as he looked around the room, finally noticing that he was no longer in his own home, but instead in a strange room with a young woman and her cat, he gave her the briefest of nods. "Hermione" he uttered and Bella sighed. "Yes, Rod unless you're that much of a bastard that you have fathered more than one then yes I mean Hermione." His eyes flicked back to his wife before he pointed and Bella followed his gesture until she too saw Hermione watching them with Crookshanks in her arms. Her familiar had adopted a protective position over her, his hair standing on end as he clearly was not happy with their new company.

"Rowle found me and gave me your letter," she said by way of greeting, eager to move past their argument that she clearly was not meant to hear. "Next time you send someone to seek me out, make sure I actually like them. Thorfinn Rowle is an arse and I did not appreciate being manhandled in public." Hermione was babbling, she knew this and yet she was too nervous to stop herself. She hadn't expected him to arrive with Bella in tow and Merlin knew the woman intimidated her.

Her father came to kneel before her, his hand reaching out to stroke her cheek and he had a soft smile on his face. "I apologise for his behaviour, trust that he will be dealt with for it, but I do not regret sending him. His sisters spotted you and showed him where he could find you and I am most grateful. My but you did grow up beautiful, you could pass for my Mother you resemble her so well."

With him so close, Hermione couldn't help drinking in his features, to really see him. Those newspaper clippings had done so little for him. He was incredibly handsome, emerald green eyes and high cheekbones crowned with dirty blonde hair. The only signs of Azkaban in his features were the lines upon his face and the flecks of silver in his hair. He was tall, broad-shouldered and there was an unmistakable aura of power around him. Hermione could easily see why Dorea had let herself be seduced by him. She just didn't see what he saw in Dorea.

Even as she looked him over, she could see that he was doing the same, there was a look of pride and hopeful longing on his face. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Crookshanks had climbed the table in front of Bellatrix and they appeared to be having a staring contest, the witch with hair far less tamed than Hermione's, she had her head tilted and was quietly crooning to the cat, although she could not hear the words, the fact that Crookshanks didn't attack surprised Hermione. Her cat was usually all fire and fury but he seemed to be quite taken with the mad witch. She turned to watch as the witch took Hermione's cat in her arms and stroked behind his ears tenderly. Noticing Hermione's gaze she paused "Don't mind me, Love. Talk with your father, I am sure you have many questions for which I have few answers."

Hermione watched her move to the window, crooning to the cat, like one would a small child and she wondered if this is what Thorfinn meant by her quiet and lucid moments. "Why?" It was a simple question, one could have meant a slew of things and was the only one that came to mind as Hermione turned to look at her Fa.. father once more. Just that word in reference to someone other than the man that raised her made Hermione swallow at the pain it caused. She wanted to know this man, yet she dearly missed the gentle man that had raised her.

"Why seek you out? Why send you a letter?" He queried, his hand reaching out and grasping her own, the warmth of them a startling contrast to her own that felt cold.

"No, well yes I want to know the answers to those too, but why do you fight for…?" she let the words trail off, but the unfinished question quickly filled the room with tension. She watched as his face grew slightly more guarded.

"Because when I was young the world was a different place, Hermione. Because my family was losing their rights, lands, and traditions for the sake of a progress that no one wanted. Dumbledore's side supposedly won the war, but what did they do with it? Are things any better? Have muggleborns been integrated into society so that they are employable upon their completion of Hogwarts? Do creatures and witches have any more rights now than they did before the war? The answer is no. You have less so, werewolves are unemployable and left to fend for themselves, vampires are forced into starvation, witches have lost so many of their rights that the moment they procreate society sees them as little more than brood mares. Dumbledore and all his spouting of the greater good does just as much damage as the Dark Lord. I chose to rebel against the society Dumbledore and his kind were forming. Even after my time in Azkaban, I do not regret my decision." His hand found her cheek then, tilting her eyes up to meet him. "I won't force your hand Hermione, I meant what I said in my letter, I only wanted to meet you. Your beliefs and choices are your own."

"For the record," the dark witch interrupted, a look of disapproval in her gaze, "I think you and the Potter brat have been brainwashed and will both be led to a grizzly end by him like so many before you. I will try and change your mind because I don't think my husbands only living child should be cannon fodder for the greater good." Bellatrix was humming softly to Crookshanks now, and the image was so much like a mother cradling a child that Hermione couldn't help but gesture to the picture of her pregnant. The silent question had her fathers breath leaving him.

"Longbottom's." Bellatrix had moved from the window now and sat in the armchair opposite Hermione, looking at the picture with a mixture of pain and longing. "Trainee aurors that should never have been armed, let alone let loose in public. They were tracking a petty thief, and I was at lunch with my sister, I had only days left until my child would have been born." As she spoke her voice grew somber, and her hand rested against her stomach, rubbing as though she remembered the feeling of her own child that had once been there.

"They shot out a slew of spells, trying to cut off his exit when a simple anti-disapparition charm would have done a much more effective job. They cornered him in the apothecary and inside of using an incarceration charm she shot out a bombarda, shattering the glass front and sending shards of glass flying into the street outside. One shard caught Narcissa in the shoulder, and another went straight through my back and into my unborn child, taking him from me before he could ever draw his first breath." Her voice had turned to steal now, her eyes growing steely as she warred with the emotions that she was fighting back.

"I held my child just once, a broken little boy who looked so much like my husband that looking at him now still causes me great pain." She stroked her cheek against Crookshanks' head as she watched Hermione, comforting herself with Hermione's familiar in a way Hermione sensed she left few others near her to see. "They were never charged with murder, it was a tragedy, yes, but my son never had any justice. As grief ate away at me, the little bitch had a son of her own, had the happiness that she had stolen from me and the unfairness of it all broke something in me. So I took from them what was taken from me. Their future, their happiness. But a swift death would not suffice, it would have been too easy. So I broke their minds, broke them until their son could be looking them in the eyes and they wouldn't know him. The law would not give me justice, so I took revenge for myself. Augusta would never let them put her son out of his misery so I knew, even in Azkaban with those wretched wraiths that no matter what happened, they would always suffer far more than I."

She released Crookshanks then, reaching across the space between chairs and gripping Hermione's arm in a steel grip. "It's also why I won't let you make a decision based only on the hippogriff manure that Dumbledore feeds his order. For everyone that died by our hands, know that one on our side was killed too. There is no side that is better than the other, both are just as saturated in blood as the other. The difference is that we do not lie about it and call it something poetic to help us sleep at night. An ugly truth is always better than a pretty lie."

Hermione was startled when the witch kissed her cheek "Take your time to learn what you need to, Hermione, but do not take too long. Your father might not force your hand, but if I think you are becoming a pawn to the light, I will intervene. I watched the loss of one child drive him to drink, I will not allow you to drive him back there. He betrayed our marriage to have you, he broke that bond and broke what was left of my tattered heart, and yet I still love him enough to want his happiness more than my revenge." She gave Rodolphus a bitter smile then "Still as handsome as the day I wed him, and even though I hate him and he makes my blood boil, I love him more than life itself."

Hermione looked at the witch in confusion. She had so many questions, far more than those that she started with and yet she couldn't bring herself to ask about them, fearing that talking about such a loss would break the fragile state of the witch before her. She couldn't fathom the depth of pain that had caused Bellatrix's thirst for blood, or even loving anyone that much that you would do something worse than death, and shatter everything that made someone who they were. She didn't know how anyone could survive the pain that Bellatrix spoke of, and in a way, she didn't think the woman truly had survived.

"Hermione, we'll leave you for now, but that ring should you need it, can call me to you. You might not like the man that I am, or agree with my life choices and I do not ask you to. But know that nothing short of death itself will stop me from defending you, or coming to your aid should you ask for it." With that he stood, pulling her to his feet before him and smiling as he looked her over. "You are a beauty, and a miracle I very much do not deserve. Thank you, for trusting me just this once and letting me meet you. If this is the only time that such a thing should occur, then I thank you for the moment of peace after so long in the hell of Azkaban." His hand cupped her cheek as he kissed her temple and moved to his wife to leave Hermione's home.

Just when he was about to leave Hermione shouted. "Wait!" At their questioning look, she ran upstairs and pulled out a photo album that her grandmother had put together of her growing up. She had even caught Hermione's first bought of accidental magic in print although, as the muggle camera could not show the books moving it looked as though she was a toddler with a book mobile around her. She dashed back downstairs hoping that they had stayed and panting passed the book into his hands. "I thought you might like this, its, well they are muggle pictures so you might not want to display them, but they are pictures of me as I grew up. My grandmother kept annotations on the back so you can see how old I was and what I was doing. It's not much but I thought…"

She was cut off by a warm smile and a quiet "thank you" as he took the book from her. Bellatrix gave her a polite nod and with a "Pop" they were gone from her home. Hermione fell to the sofa and wrapped her arms around her middle, confused, elated and strangely bereft. She couldn't put her finger on why, but him leaving seemed to carve a hole in her chest that made her ache and want to call him back even though her mind told her that such an impulse would be bad. She opened her arms to Crookshanks and murmured "So that's my Dad…"


	8. Wish it was true

**_Author's Note._**

 _Thank you for the overwhelming response that you all had to the last chapter. You made my day so much that I decided to give you this chapter a little earlier than I had intended._

 _Lots of Love, Sinsofdragons_

* * *

 _Boy come on out from the cold_

 _You're lost outside there don't you know_

 _It's not what you say it was you do_

 _Just keep wishing your wishes are true_

 _Well your dreams there reality_

 _There's no pain there's no misery_

 _Just polish the blood and the bruise_

 _For there's just no way you can lose_

 _But I wish it was true._

 _ **The White Buffalo - Wish it was true.**_

* * *

"Harry it's been over a week mate, we have to tell them that you've spoken to Hermione. I mean didn't you say she would be checking in today?" Ron was sat on the couch in Harry's bedroom at Potter Manor. The room looked like someone had taken the Gryffindor common room and turned it into an opulent bedroom. Tapestries lined two walls, depicting magical theory on one and an ancestor whom Harry was pretty sure might have been the idiot that had tried to tickle a sleeping dragon. Ron had his feet up on an oak table with wrought iron hinges that seemed to hold it all together and was wearing a maroon jumper that he had stretched out at the neck from his tugging.

Harry was in a similar position, his eyes going from Ron to the mirror to the unlit fireplace in his room in sequence as though he was waiting for something, anything to happen. The two of them had once again been excluded from all meetings, something that had caused more than one shouting match between him and his guardians. Harry knew they meant well, but constantly being treated like a child that needed coddling was getting on his last nerve. Ron, who had come over from the burrow to escape his mother treating him just the same way, had been shocked when Harry had locked the door and confessed that he had heard from Hermione.

"Look she said she is safe, and I sent her something that I can track to find her. She's pissed at Gran, for her it is like her whole life has just been obliterated and she was left with a waking nightmare. I mean, come on Ron, one day she's muggleborn, the next she is the step-daughter of Bellatrix Lestrange. She said she needs time and after speaking to her, mate she is a mess." He shrugged helplessly then, Harry hated seeing her look so defeated and he felt guilty as hell for it. "I mean, for me, this is a good thing, I get some of my family back and I escape ever having to go back to the Dursleys, but Hermione? I see why she is not happy, not least of which is because Gran won't stop calling her Cassiopeia. It's even more of a mouthful than Hermione is."

Whilst Harry seemed calm as he explained his thinking to Ron, he couldn't deny that he had checked the mirror almost hourly for anything from Hermione. His half that he had pilfered from Sirius felt as though it had attached itself to him considering how often he held it.

"Yeah, but mate it's 'Mione innit? She's alone and death-eaters would kill her on site, 'cos they don't know she's actually a pureblood." He looked puzzled then as though something had occurred to him. "Actually how are you tracking her through that mirror?" Ron eyed Harry suspiciously, not quite believing that Harry was capable of such a feat.

"With those tracking Runes that Hermione tried to drive me demented with when she was revising for Ancient Runes." Harry had been rather pleased with himself for actually remembering that particular rune, although, at the time, he would probably have traded detention with Umbridge than spend another hour having his hand smacked when Hermione thought he was going easy on her. The witch was a menace with that temper of hers. When Ron continued to look suspicious he grumbled. "You know the ones, she drew them on Luna's trunk when she found out her roommates had taken her belongings and then cursed it so that they'd all look Marietta in an hour if they didn't give them back to her."

"Oh yeah, Belby got in a right hump when his sister came crying to him cause Hermione wouldn't take back the curse. Serves the little thief right if you ask me, who steals turnip bloody earrings anyways?" Ron ruffled his hair as he considered that and muttered: "Ravenclaws are all mental."

Harry laughed as he continued "So anyway I added one to the back of the mirror that I sent Hermione, nicked Sirius' half and now I can talk to her and find her if I need to."

"What happens if she gets into trouble though? I mean yeah you set up a check in, but it has been a week mate. Someone could have off'd her already and we're waiting for some check-in that will never happen." Ron seemed to alarm himself as he spoke, because he kicked his legs off the table, sending the empty mug that held his tea tumbling to the floor.

"Relax Ron, its simple. She misses that check-in and I confess everything to Sirius and raise absolute hell until he goes and gets Hermione. She has until 6 pm today, so if she doesn't message me by then, and Sirius isn't in, you and I are going to go and get her ourselves."

"Harry they aren't just going to let you run off into Merlin knows what." Ron stood now and began pacing back and forth, letting his agitation and worry get the better of him with each passing moment.

"So we don't tell them, we just say we are going to practice Quidditch and fly off and get her instead." Harry shrugged knowing that this was probably what he was going to do anyway, and if they insisted on sending Sirius to guard him it wouldn't take much to convince his Godfather to help them get her back. If he had to stupefy Sirius to get away he would do that too, because whilst he was happy with the turn of events he was also furious at them for what they had done to Hermione. He also didn't want to lose Sirius, having seen him fall through the veil had broken something in Harry. He'd been shocked when Hermione had come running into his dorm room crying, flinging herself into Ron's arms and choking back sobs as she told them what had happened to her parents. It was like the order hadn't paused to acknowledge Hermione's feelings, or what that loss would do to her. Whilst Harry had raged in her defence his heart had broken to see her just wilt before him, all that fire she had seemed to have been snuffed out.

"Right, so mate your plan is that we wait 'til six to go and get her, from wherever she's squirreled herself away, on broomsticks under the noses of the entire order and not get caught doing so?" Ron gave Harry an impatient look, as though waiting for Harry to see the flaw in this plan.

"What's your point, Ron?"

"Mate the weather this week has been shite, gets dark so early that if we wait to leave six and then we have to fly all the way there, we'd never make it before the entire order knows we are missing and come looking for the chosen one. So if we don't want them to think its suspicious that your charming self has finally emerged to see daylight and give us time to get away we should go now. 'Cos mate no offense, as nice as this place is, I'm sick of your grouchy self and wanna see 'Mione." He grinned then as something occurred to him. "Besides, you have any idea how rare it is to have her mad at someone else for once? A bloke wants to enjoy it while it lasts. 'Cos we both know she'll find a reason to be mad at me again soon."

Harry grinned, knowing it was true that it was a rare occurrence that Hermione wasn't mad at Ron for something. Whilst he always seemed to escape Hermione's ire, Ron usually bore the brunt of it. Sometimes when Harry watched them fighting, he thought Ron actually enjoyed it and wondered, not for the first time, whether Ron riled Hermione up on Purpose just to have her yell at him. Harry stood, grabbing his wand from the table he slotted it into his boot. Mad-eye had lectured him for three hours only the night before when he had seen Harry tuck his wand into his pocket. Something about having trained a careless auror that had blown off their left arse cheek after forgetting their wand was in their back pocket when they sat down. Apparently, accidental misfire was a common wizard problem and Harry should be more careful. When Harry had asked Kingsley with a straight face whether the one cheeked auror still worked for the ministry it had set Sirius off into a coughing fit of laughter that left he and Remus in tears the angrier the grizzled old auror had gotten.

When Tonks had offered to show the room that the clumsy auror in question was her by letting him have a squeeze Dorea had intervened, chastising them all, even as she tried not laugh with them as Mad-eyes face turned a mottled shade of puce. Only Sirius giving Harry these boots with an inbuilt wand holder had seemed to placate the old auror. Harry had quipped what happens if he blows off his foot by accident, Remus had told him that he suspects that's what really happened to Mad-eyes leg. Not that Harry was really all that concerned, losing a foot or an arse cheek ranked pretty low on his list of concerns. It was probably somewhere above whether Malfoy liked him and between concern for Umbridge after her centaur ordeal and whether he would ever have a good hair day.

Grabbing his broomstick as he left the room he told Ron that Sirius' broom was by the back door and he could borrow that. The pair of them stomped down the rather ornate staircase, that was lined with statues and artwork with a wrought iron banister that curved with the stairs. Harry honestly wondered whether there was a peacock hidden around here somewhere because from all accounts the place rivaled Malfoy Manor in ostentatiousness. It looked as though royalty had once lived here, and every generation since had wanted the world to know it. The rooms dripped wealth and made Harry more than a little uncomfortable knowing that technically it was all his. Harry had honestly been more than a little surprised at the number of things that referenced Slytherin in a home that belonged to a prominent Gryffindor family, but he was smart enough not to say it in front of his proud Slytherin Grandmother.

They were almost out the back door, brooms in hand when her voice stopped them in their tracks. "Ah, there you are Harry, darling. Would you and Ronald care to join me in the parlour, I thought we could have afternoon tea." Her youth still jarred Harry a little, he knew she should be older, and yet her curly dark hair and grey eyes seemed full of life as she regarded them both. She certainly didn't dress her age, Molly looked older than she did, and Harry didn't think he was alone in being slightly perturbed that to someone who wasn't related to her, she was hot.

He shared a look with Ron, who shrugged before turning to face the matriarch of the manor. "Actually Gran, we were going to go play Quidditch. Ron wants to have a better year on the team than the last one, so we're going to go practice a few moves whilst it's still light out."

"Yeah, Mrs. Potter, plus Mum's been driving me demented, barely lets one of us out of her sight or leave the room without panicking. Been feeling kind of caged in, it has been a week and I'm already going stir crazy stuck indoors all day every day." Ron ruffled the hair at the back of his head, giving her a rueful look.

"Well, I had thought that you both would want to be informed of the progress that we've made on finding Cassieopia.."

Harry interrupted, snapping as he did so. "Her name is Hermione. And is she in the parlour?" He paused waiting for her to respond, but then thinking better of it he quickly continued. "No she is not, so there's been no real progress then has there? So We'll go and do something other than sitting inside and fret that you and Dumbledore have driven her off to Merlin knows where without any protection after taking her family away from her. And no offense Gran, but if I have to sit inside and have my questions ignored and be treated like a child much longer, I might just send Voldemort an invite for tea just to have him try and kill me and break the tedium."

She gasped in anger, recoiling a little as though she had just been slapped. "Harry James Potter, how dare you speak to me like that? Never joke about that thing killing you like he did my James. That evil beast murdered your parents and you..?" she shook her head, hurt written all over her face as she took a step back from them and Harry felt a stab of guilt go through him as he continued.

"Because my best friend is out there on her own after you carelessly obliterated the only family she has ever known from her life. They are as good as dead to her and you can't even call her by her name? No wonder she ran, I only wish she had taken me with her." With that Harry turned and dragged Ron with him through the open door, kicking off from the ground on his broom before she thought to stop him. He flew so fast that he knew Ron would struggle to keep up but he had to act fast before Dorea thought to place wards to stop him leaving the grounds. It was only when he saw the outskirts of a village a mile away that he relaxed enough to slow down.

"Mate why did you say that?" Ron panted as he caught up, but cut himself short when he saw the pained expression on Harry's face. "Harry…"

"Just don't okay, I already feel like an arse, but I can be forgiven for that, but if Hermione is hurt or killed because I didn't come and find her then I will never forgive myself. Hell, I would walk into Malfoy Manor and let Voldemort have at it, it would be better than I deserved. So let's not talk about what a shite grandson I am turning out to be, and go find Hermione, before the shock wears off and she comes looking for us, yeah?"

Ron shook his head even as he followed Harry "Alright, but we both know she and my Mum are going to kill us when we get back right? I mean if we have Hermione she might be distracted, but enjoy this flight mate, something tells me your gran is going to shove that broom somewhere the sun doesn't shine when she sees you next."


	9. The Wolf

**_Authors Note._**

 _Thank you so much for all your reviews. I am amazed at the response that this story has been getting. To those of you stating that you do not know who you are meant to hate... you aren't meant to know because Hermione doesn't know. Please enjoy the chapter and remember reviews are like candy, please share._

* * *

 _Leave behind your wanton ways_

 _I wanna learn to love in kind, 'Cause You were all I ever longed for._

 _Sheltered, you better keep the wolf back from the door._

 _He wanders ever closer every night._

 _And how he waits, baying for blood._

 _I promised you everything would be fine._

 _ **Mumford and Sons -The Wolf.**_

* * *

Clarity was something Hermione was starting to think would be always denied to her after the last few days. After meeting with her father and removing the note from the mirror she had to wonder how Harry hadn't seen it or appeared. She'd half expected him to walk in as after they had left, wand drawn and ready to defend her and had been torn between being disappointed that he hadn't and relieved that she still had time to herself. She'd spent the rest of the night on the sofa convinced she must have imagined it all with Crookshanks against her chest. It was only when a paw pushed against her cursed side and caused her to bite back a scream of pain did she move to get medicine.

She had showered and spent the morning arguing with herself over whether or not she should call Harry or not. She needed something to distract her, take her mind of the internal conflict brewing inside herself but dragging Harry into her turmoil would just give him the chance to weedle where she was from her and she didn't want to go back to the order and Dorea, at least not yet. She knew she had to eventually, she had to face her mother at some point, but Hermione wanted it to be on her terms, and when she had left, Dorea had all the power and everyone on her side. Hermione needed an ally that had her side, would fight for what she needed not what everyone else wanted her to be. She knew that person would have to be herself, so she needed time to heal, to find her strength again and for that she needed time.

So in the cold light of the Yorkshire morning, she had climbed up to Penistone Hill and stared out that the moors that had inspired the Bronte sisters so much. The view was breathtaking, wild moor as far as the eye could see and an old world power to it, as though the very ground was steeped in a history so strong that you could feel it thrumming through your veins. In truth, they weren't that far from town, but the angle of the hill meant civilization was hidden in the valley away from her eyes. It wasn't true wilderness, but with Hermione's side still causing her pain it was as close to the wilderness that she could get without injuring herself even more. But getting up there, only having stopped twice to catch her breath after being winded but she felt a sense of achievement that she had managed at least this.

Hermione wandered away from the paths after a while, instead choosing to try and make it to the waterfalls she had been told about whilst she was shopping in the village. So she meandered in the direction she had been told they were, being careful when she had to climb over rocks and avoiding rabbit holes. It wasn't an easy journey but Hermione felt that if she could do this, then maybe she had control over at least one thing right now. Because she felt that though the Lestrange's had met her on her terms, they and Dorea held all the cards and all the power and she hated feeling powerless, so she kept walking.

She had noticed that the further she walked the fewer people she had seen, and she wondered if that had to do with how boggy the ground had slowly been becoming. She paused to look around and take a drink from the water bottle in her pack and was startled when she heard a voice.

"You really shouldn't be wandering around here all alone, darling." Hermione looked to her left where Thorfinn Rowle was leaning against a rock as though he had been there for hours, and yet she knew just seconds ago, he had not been.

"What are you stalking me now? Do you have so little to do that you're following me around in hopes of distraction?" She shielded her eyes from the sun to see him better and frowned at him. "And since when do you call me 'darling'? I thought I was forever branded as the 'gryffindor princess' in your eyes."

"Since your stepmother threatened to gouge out my eyes with her fingernails if I did anything to upset you or cause you harm. She wants you safe, so here I am, watching you." He walked towards her as he spoke, he loped like a big cat would, a rolling movement that had her biting her lip as she watched him move. "And because the little girl I called Princess appears to have grown up and lost some of that Gryffindor bluster. I mean that as a compliment so take no offense. It took courage to contact your father so quickly, and pure cunning to have survived the encounter with Bella that left you unharmed and her charmed by you."

"Truthfully I had no idea she would even be there, and she spent much of the time cuddling my cat, Crookshanks." She held up her hand to keep some distance between them, not wanting him to get too close and was surprised when he took it on his own but came no closer. His hands were warm and callused and yet she found she quite liked the feel of him holding her hand. She really didn't want to, but it seemed that crush she had had on the towering neanderthal as a first year had come back with a fiery vengeance. He had braids in his hair today, but the wind had blown some of his hair loose making him look like he really had just stepped off a Viking ship and was here to pillage and plunder.

"Your familiar?" He asked, a frown forming a small crease between his brows as he did so.

"Well yes, I guess you could call him that," she responded, slightly confused over why he was interested in that.

He shook his head, pulling her closer as he did so. "I'll explain later, right now you can't be up here."

"What do you mean I can't be up here? Its public land and I wanted to see the waterfalls." She tried to pull her hand back as she spoke, instantly annoyed at being told what to do.

"You can't be here because this land is not public, it belongs to Fenrir Greyback and he came home last night with his pack. He will be hunting soon and already the pack magic is leading victims into traps for them to hunt this night." He looked around as he spoke, as though expecting company at any moment.

"Werewolves don't hunt in daylight and it's not the full moon tonight" she groused.

"They do Hermione. You think they teach you about dark creatures in Defence Against the Dark Arts so that you understand the plight of the beast? No, its because every witch and wizard should know how to defend themselves should they ever find themselves trapped."

"What a load of twaddle. Superstitious nonsense, you forget I know a werewolf, his name is Remus Lupin and he is safe to be around every night but one." Hermione tried once again to pull her hand back and huffed when she couldn't.

Thorfinn laughed darkly. "Yeah, I know all about Lupin. Greyback says the man is killing himself every full moon, driving his wolf insane through forced confinement that he's practically hairless and scarred in both forms. He's starved that wolf, a pack animal darling, of social interaction and the ability to run since he was four years old. He's so terrified of losing his humanity that every full moon he self-harms just to try and appear as normal as the rest of us. That wolf needs an alpha, someone strong enough to make that beast feel safe when his human half has done nothing but torture him. What he is doing to his wolf soul is the equivalent of asking a vampire to survive on gravy, it's the worst kind of torture and self-loathing and not something you should be taking lessons from." He stilled then, tugging her into his chest and placing his hand over her lips as she struggled. "Shh. Look to your left and do not scream."

There, about fifty yards to the left of them she saw them. There were about ten that she could make out, and she swallowed back a scream as they began to change. Men and women whimpered and groaned until howls broke the air as they shook out their fur in their werewolf forms. She pressed back into Thorfinn who only tightened his grip on her, his hands wrapped around her waist. She was both terrified and awestruck as she watched them. Yes, she had seen Lupin change, but now that she saw these wolves she understood what he had been trying to tell her. These wolves had muscles, full covering their bodies as she had expected they would look before she had seen Moony. They didn't look like actual wolves but they had more of that appearance than seeing Moony had led her to believe. She just wished they didn't still have massive teeth.

"I am going to carry you, you can't run with that scar on your side still unhealed. Pack magic means I can't apparate until I clear their boundaries, and with Greyback here, "He paused and pointed at the largest of them, a Black and Grey beast that was nudging one of the smallest wolves to stand. "That's nearly half a mile. They are faster than us, and if they bite either one of us, our lives as we know it are over."

Hermione turned in his arms, hating to turn away from the wolves and let him lift her up into his arms. He placed her over his shoulder and she whimpered as his shoulder dug into her side. She fisted her hands in his shirt and tried not to panic as he began to jog over the uneven ground. From this angle she could see the wolves again, she could see them start to scent the air. Growls and yips filling the air as they communicated with one another. They started to head in the other direction, the smaller of the wolves playing as they followed some trail and Hermione thought they were safe. She let out a short breath and relaxed slightly in Thorfinn's hold.

She watched as Greyback threw back his head and howled and felt a ripple of power was over them all. He was massive, maybe three times the size she remembered Lupin being and his bulk was all muscle. He didn't start after the others though, she could see, even from the distance they were creating that he was scenting the air. She gripped Thorfinn's shirt in her fist and resisted the urge to scream as the werewolf turned his head in their direction. She slapped her hands against Thorfinn's back as she watched the werewolf begin to head in their direction.

He wasn't running, and if she didn't know better she would have thought it was merely curious as it watched them.

She smacked Thorfinn again, who turned his head to see what was going on. He swore and the wolves howled, joining their alpha and started to run after them. Thorfinn whipped out his wand and shot fiendfyre at their pursuers. "Ardenti mortem!" had barely left his lips when the closest wolf was wrapped in snake-like flames, his howls of pain sending other wolves skidding to a stop to try and help their packmate.

Thorfinn shot stunning spells as he ran, jumping over rocks that caused Hermione to bounce on his shoulder and made her cry out in pain. The werewolf she knew was Greyback never stopped running after them, he dodged every spell that Thorfinn threw his way and Hermione screamed when the wolf got close enough to almost touch her. Her wand was in her boot where she couldn't reach it and so she held onto Thorfinn, but still, the wolf got closer still. His fangs were only inches from her and he readied to pounce when Thorfinn suddenly dropped carrying her with him. She watched as the wolf sailed over them before she was engulfed in water.

She was panicking and tried to kick free from the Viking wizards grasp when he surfaced them both from the depths of the water. He had jumped down the waterfall and the wolves had jumped right across missing catching them both by inches. He swam to the bank with her in his arms, but Hermione couldn't breathe. She was terrified, that wolf had only to stretch his neck a little further and his teeth would have sunk into Hermione. There was a cracking sound and the feeling of being compressed through the head of a pin only to be thrown out the other end but Hermione didn't register any of it. She could hear Thorfinn saying her name but she can't shake the feral gleam of golden eyes and sharp teeth from her mind. He had been going to kill them both. Her hands were shaking, her whole body trembling and she didn't know how she was still upright.

Thorfinn growled when he realised she was going into shock, he pressed her against a wall and kissed her. He needed to shock her out of the stupor that she had fallen into and so he did the only thing he could think of. He tunneled his hands into her wild hair and kissed her, her lips parting with a gasp and he plundered her mouth. His hands ran down her sides, pulling her into him as he hitched one of her thighs over his knee. She tasted like chocolate and mint and groaned at how soft she was. He bite her lip and she mewled against his lips, her body arching into his as she slowly came back from the panic that had engulfed her.

Her hands slid up his chest before they wrapped around the locks of his hair. She pulled him against her, shuddering as the stubble from his beard rubbed against the soft skin of her neck as he kissed and nipped at her pulse point. Hermione could feel the terror leaving her as need and lust flooded her body, she wanted him in the worst way at the moment, needing him to make her feel alive after she had looked death so closely in the eye. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him even tighter against her and whimpered as he thrust his groin against hers.

It was only when someone shouted "Get a room!" did she realise what she was doing and she pushed him back with both hands. She blocked his next kiss with her hand and moaned when he sucked her finger between his lips, his tongue tracing the slender digit.

"Thorfinn stop. We can't do this, we almost died and now you want to make out." She looked around and saw she was on a side street off of Main Street. "Make out in public when a werewolf was inches away from sinking his teeth into me." She trembled then and didn't protest when he held her against him.

"You're safe, Princess. He won't follow you here, he has no trail to follow you with, just never go up there again." He tilted her head until her eyes met his, his thumb tracing her lip as he did so. He smiled them "I must say I expected more grief from you."

"It'll come" she murmured, her mind torn between fear and wanting him to keep touching her. "But right now my mind is too panicked to put the energy into yelling at you for saving my life and endangering it at the same time. So, for now, I'll ask what happened to darling?"

He smirked at her, melting her insides with those blue eyes staring into hers. "Caught that did you? I tried, but I fear that I will always see you as a princess. So pure and innocent and that you make a depraved man wish for things he should not have. Sending me to watch you was a foolish move, but now that I'm here I find myself enthralled with you." He stood back then, letting her slide from his arms and walked her into Main Street, reluctantly letting her hand go. "Now run home and lock your doors, Princess. The pack will not stay long but it's best that they do not find you. I'll tell your father about the close encounter so that he knows to keep Greyback from you."

She paused, turned to leave before turning and tugging his head down and kissing him softly. It was brief and she gave him a small smile when she pulled back. "Thank you" was all she said before she headed down Main Street and lost herself in the crowds, only then realising that he had dried them both without her knowing. Well almost everything, she noticed with a small grimace that her knickers were soaking wet.


	10. There Will Be Time

**_Authors Note._**

 _Thank you for all of the reviews, but here's a little something unexpected for you._

 _Lots of love_

 _Sinsofdragons._

* * *

 _So open up my eyes to a new light  
I wandered 'round your darkened land all night  
But I lift up my eyes to a new high  
And indeed there would be time._

 _And in the cold light, I live to love and adore you  
It's all that I am, it's all that I have._

 _ **There will be time - Mumford and Sons.**_

* * *

Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or cry when saw them sat on the wall outside her house. Harry and Ron had clearly been there a while, drink bottles half empty as they ate sweets and joked around. Had it really only been a week since she had last seen them? She wanted to run to them, throw her arms around them and then yell at them for being foolish enough to come after her. But common sense told her that this could easily be a trap, and so she pulled her wand from her boot and slipped it up her sleeve, ready to hex them should they not be who they appeared to be.

"Who are you and why are you here?" she asked when she got to her gate, watching with a mix of amusement and exasperation as instead of worrying that she might not be who she said she is, they cheered "Hermione" and moved to hug her. She pulled out her wand and the two of them paused.

"Hermione, knock it off, it's us," Ron said as he stared at her wand with annoyance.

"Fine, if you are Ron, how did you really get that scar on your side instead of that story about heroically saving me from some cursed clothes last summer?" Hermione snapped, her wand still firmly aimed at them both.

Ron groaned and with a shifty look to Harry murmured "By jumping behind you and screaming like a girl when a spider ran across my hand, and then tripped and cut my side open on that ugly dressing table. If you are really Hermione, what did you swear you would do if I didn't help you revise for charms last year?"

"I threatened to write to your mother and detail in graphic detail everything you claim not to know how to do to get out of helping cleaning. I then swore that if you complained I would never help you pass another class again by letting you see and use my notes." She paused and looked at Harry. "How did you talk to me when I left?"

"Through the enchanted set of mirrors that Sirius gave to me. What did you swear to me you heard McGonagall tell Peeves during the reign of Umbridge.?" Harry asked, a small grin on his face.

"That the chandelier in the great hall unscrews the other way." With that, she dropped her wand and threw herself at the pair of them hugging them tight even though it hurt her side to do so. This close she could see the scars on Ron's arms from the enchanted brain and how pale Harry was. It filled her with concern and worry and with a look around to make sure that they were not being watched she fished out the key from her pocket and let them into her cottage. Crookshanks who had clearly been napping before the door unlocked greeted Hermione with a purr and she could have sworn a growl in Ron's direction. The feeling was entirely mutual as she heard Ron say once more that he hated her cat.

She watched as they looked around the living room, Ron seemingly fascinated with everything muggle, including the light switches whilst Harry just seemed to be taking the room in. "You know if you waited for another" she paused to check the clock on the wall "five minutes I'd have called you through the mirror. I'm guessing that if I check the mirror upstairs I will find a tracking rune, won't I Harry?" She leveled him with a glower and was not amused by the small grin that formed on his face.

"I'm not apologising, so don't expect me to. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you Hermione, so just be glad that it's just me and Ron and not the order." He seated himself in the same place that Bellatrix had last night and Hermione couldn't help but feel extremely guilty about that right now. Ron had taken the seat next to her, and she noticed with slight amusement between her and the front door. She pulled her feet beneath her to make a show of how she had no intentions of leaving and opened her arms for Crookshanks to cuddle up with her.

"Arse" She muttered. "Pair of mean little boys, aren't they Crookshanks?"

"Mean?" Ron grumbled. "Witch hasn't seen me in a week and greets me with a wand in the face and calls me mean. Anyone would think I didn't spend the last week being yelled at by Mum for not watching to make sure you didn't run off. Because get this 'Mione. It's my fault you ran, cause Harry and I weren't supportive enough. Didn't stop in a crowded station where we were being escorted by armed guards to go hmm, can't see Mione, did she bugger off to Yorkshire?" He leveled a glare at her then before continuing. "No see, there's me, half bandaged and can only see out of one eye, holding onto Dad for support cause I could barely walk mind, oblivious to the fact that one of my best friends has done a runner and left me and Harry to hang for it. You think Mad-Eye believes we didn't know where you'd gone? That Mum didn't berate the pair of us for not watching you, even though Harry was next to Mad-Eye at the time with your Mother, who by the way is terrifying. Nah, 'Mione isn't that stupid to run off and just oh I don't know, play house whilst the rest of us panic that you've been taken and killed.

"Then that git" he gestured at Harry, "tells me not only has he spoken to you, but that wasn't coming back and he wasn't telling the order anything because he owes you for all the times you've saved his arse." He looks between the two of them now looking annoyed and half amused at them both. "So I've spent the week at home with Mum either coddling me cause her baby boy nearly died and yelling at me for not telling her where you were so that she could bring you home. Brightest witch of our age my left nut. What kind of genius forgets to make sure there's a cover story and that her friends won't suffer for her actions. Mum has damn near chewed my ear off about you and yours, yours gets torn between crying that she's an awful mother and furious that any child of hers could be so reckless."

Hermione just looked at Ron for a while and chewed over what she should say. The silence stretched awkwardly for a few minutes, during which Crookshanks left her for Harry and the scratches he gave the ginger beast behind the ears. "Ron I'm not going to apologise, it would mean me saying that I think what I did was wrong and I don't think that. I don't know what Harry told you, but Ron, my parents aren't my parents. They had their entire lives erased to the point that they could look right passed me and now my father is a death-eater and my Mother is a harridan that calls me Cassiopeia. My entire life has been a lie, my Harry's bloody aunt now, technically I can take everything from the Lestrange vaults and I am going to have people convinced that I am a death-eater spy because of her reckless decision to shag a death-eater."

She stood up then, pacing back and forth. "The cheek of that woman calling me reckless when she's the one that caused this bloody mess. She should have left well enough alone, never admitted that she was my mother and let me live my life that need I remind you, she chose for me whilst she played the martyr." She spun then and pointed a finger at Harry. "If you ever act like her and try and sacrifice yourself for me and Ron I will resurrect you from the dead just to kill you myself. And just how did you two get away and here all alone without anyone stopping you? Because Harry they intended to keep you under armed guard the entire summer so that if you even sneezed the entire order would be aware of it."

"We flew," Harry answered, cutting her off before she could start ranting once more. "I might have said some honest and hurtful things to my Grandmother and whilst she had gone off in shock Ron and I flew off to "play Quidditch". The order is all over the place trying to find you, thinking that you won't have gone far from London or at least the southern half of England. They're stretched so thin that Gran was on her own to watch us today. I mean by now they will know that we are gone and will probably be looking for us. So we need to either go back with you or message them and let them know that we are safe and they we're with you. Either way Hermione, we aren't leaving you on your own." He had that determined look on his face that he always got when he had set his mind on a course and there was no turning him from it.

"Harry if Voldemort tries to find you know he can, this place isn't protected. He will get wind that you aren't with the order and send people out to find you." Hermione looked at him with concern.

"I know, but Hermione I can't lose you. You and Ron are my best friends, so if you stay here, then so do I. You're always there for me and Ron when we need you, so don't shut us out when you need us the most." Harry reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently.

"He's right, Hermione." Ron chimed in. "And you are in almost as much danger as Harry is because they all know that Harry would do anything to protect those he loves. So if you stay so do we." He gave her a small grin then. "Besides, if I wasn't here who would you have to yell at and make sure you ate when you decided to get engrossed in a book or seven? You need us, just like we need you."

"You all need to be more aware," said a voice from the doorway and the three of them whipped their wands out and aimed them at the wizard standing there.

"Easy now, Pup. You steal my mirror and my broomstick you should expect me to follow. Hermione, you have led the order on a merry little goose chase." Sirius shut the front door behind him, his hands calmly in the air as he looked around at the three panicked teens. Crookshanks, ever oblivious to danger had siddled over to Sirius and was winding between his legs yowling for attention from the infamous marauder.

"Harry, first off, you're grounded. Second, what did I tell you when you and Hermione saved me from the dementors in your third year?"

"That I could come live with you if I wanted, and that the ones we love never truly leave us. You also told Hermione she was the brightest witch of her age." Harry answered with a sullen huff. "What did you say to Kreacher about your mother when showing me the family tree?"

Sirius gave a small smile then. "That my mother didn't have a heart. She kept herself alive all those years out of pure spite." He paused then and seeing that they had lowered their wands he went straight to Hermione, looking her over for a moment before pulling her into a hug. "You gave us all a right scare, kitten."

Hermione bit her lip and looked up at him and huffed. "I am not going back."

"Who said anything about taking you anywhere Kitten? A few well placed wards and you'll have a safe house not even Dumbledore could break his way into. Now Harry and Ron write letters Molly and Dorea so that they know you are both safe and expect to receive some howlers. Hermione and I will set some wards and make food whilst you do so." Sirius instructed, his arm never letting go of Hermione as he spoke.

"What do you need 'Mione for? We can't use magic outside of Hogwarts." Ron asked.

"Her house, mate, she needs to seal the wards or they won't stick so she has to help," Sirius responded. "We won't be long."

With that, he led Hermione to the small garden outside the kitchen door and closed it behind them. "Hermione, love why do you smell not just like a werewolf but of pond water and" he paused sniffing again "someone male I can't place."

She sat on the stoop and huffed. "Because I inadvertently found myself in the middle of a pack hunt and got chased across the moors before falling down a waterfall to lose them. I'd just gotten back to safety and saw Ron and Harry sat on my wall. I haven't had the chance to tell them yet."

"And the male?" Sirius inquired, concern marring his normally jovial features.

"A, um well not a friend, but someone I knew from school that helped me," Hermione answered looking anywhere but Sirius' eyes.

"Alright," he said letting it go for now. "But you're not hurt, they didn't bite or scratch you?" When she shook her head he sighed. "I don't really need you for this, but I didn't think you'd want to answer in front of those two. They mean well, but Harry would have run off to fight Greyback and I have no desire to see my Godson mauled." He took out his wand and began casting some spells she knew, and others that she did not. When he cut his hand and used it to draw a rune she didn't recognise she spoke up. "What is that for?"

"It's half of the spell to make this location secret. You need to cut your hand and do the same." Sirius explained. "I'll be the secret keeper so when it's done, I'll tell you the address so you can walk back inside, okay?"

Hermione nodded and proceeded to cut her thumb and with some prompting from Sirius drew the same rune. The rune hung in the air for a second before Hermione felt a wave of magic flood the air around her house and suddenly she couldn't see it anymore.

"Hermione you live at Number Three Spinners Way." Sirius murmured to her and just like that her house was once again in front of her. He caught her hand when she went to move inside. "Hermione just be careful with Rowle, he's not his father but he isn't someone you should trust either."

When Hermione's head whipped up in shock he looked at her with a barking laugh. "Who do you think yelled at you to get a room?" And with that he sauntered back inside, holding the door open for her.


End file.
